


The Dubai Seduction

by anubislover



Series: Billionaire Brotherhood AU [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, Cock Rings, Corporate Espionage, Cunnilingus, Dirty Dancing, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Doggy Style, F/M, First Time Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Kidnapping, Light Bondage, Mirror Sex, Missionary Position, Moral Dilemmas, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Past Child Abuse, Seduction, Semi-Public Sex, Slow Burn, Vaginal Fingering, billionaire au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2018-11-05 05:12:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 157,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11006694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anubislover/pseuds/anubislover
Summary: Maria Thorpe is the executive assistant of Robert de Sable, head of Templar Industries. A hard worker and force to be reckoned with, she's fought tooth and nail for everything she has. But a single drunken mistake made years ago means she's forced to contend with rumors that she slept her way to the top. So when Robert offers her the chance to go to Dubai to attain the partnership of CEO of Creed International, Altair Ibn-La'Ahad, she jumps at the chance.Unfortunately, the charming billionaire has a vendetta against her boss and believes Maria's just a pretty face and great pair of legs. But when his invitation to his bed leaves him with only a stinging cheek, he becomes determined to bring such a fiery and intelligent woman over to his side, and especially into his bed. And as much as she loathes his arrogant smirk and sensual touches, Robert gives her an ultimatum; if she can't convince him to sign within a week, she's to sleep with him to get his signature.Will Maria be able to hold out against the cunning and seductive CEO, or will Altair gain the means to utterly destroy de Sable?





	1. A Slap to the Face

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Rising Star for suggesting this! Updates might be sporadic, as I'm not always very good at keeping up with multi-chapter fics with an actual plot, but I'll do my best. Feel free to leave suggestions in the comments!

When Maria Thorpe had been entrusted with the task of going to Dubai to meet billionaire Altair Ibn-La’Ahad, she had initially been quite thrilled. Her boss, Robert de Sable of Templar Industries, was supposed to go, but a sudden shareholder meeting had forced him to either reschedule or send a replacement. Given how difficult it had been to get the billionaire to agree to the meeting in the first place, he chose to send her, much to her delight. After all, who wouldn’t want to travel to beautiful Dubai to meet one of the world’s most powerful businessmen? And to visit his home, which was practically a desert palace, called to the adventurous little girl she had once been, who had read  _Arabian Nights_  every night at bedtime and dreamed of traveling the world and meeting a charming prince who would show her his exotic lands.

Now, standing before the man himself, she wished Robert had just rescheduled.

"You're my 2 o'clock appointment?" Altair asked, a dark eyebrow raised suspiciously.

"I suspect you were expecting someone else," she replied. "I'm sure Robert informed you of the last-minute change."

“Yes, but when de Sable told me he was sending someone in his place, I was not expecting his secretary,” he said coolly, leaning back against the plush cushions of the embroidered couch. He wore an expensive white dress shirt, perfectly tailored to his broad shoulders, contrasting his tan skin nicely like mocha and cream. The sleeves were rolled up, displaying his muscular forearms, and the top two buttons were undone, exposing his throat. He wore a few gold and ruby rings, the stones almost the size of a finger nail. Yet despite his rather relaxed appearance, he exuded an air of authority that demanded attention and respect.

The man was practically a prince; seven years ago, after the last CEO had retired due to health problems, he’d stepped up as the head of Creed International, leading them away from oil and into the solar power business, then expanding into technology and even luxury hotels and resorts. He invested his money wisely and often helped develop many of the company’s most innovative products himself. Through his leadership, they’d become one of the most prosperous and influential companies in the world, and Altair had gone from millionaire to billionaire. He was smart, business-savvy, and athletic, often being featured in fitness magazines for his incredible parkour training routine. Tabloids loved to speculate on the handsome bachelor’s love-life, as he seemed to have a new paramour every week.

He was also, Maria had realized from the moment she stepped into his elaborate home office, insufferably arrogant.

She bristled but bit her tongue. Yes, she was Robert’s executive assistant, but she fought tooth and nail for everything she had. She was his right-hand woman, handling many of the company’s most important internal affairs on top of organizing his day-to-day life. Ordered, professional, and not one to suffer fools, she was a force to be reckoned with. Robert de Sable was a man who liked control; to have passed on so many crucial duties to her, including meeting with such an important client, was proof of how much trust he had in her.

Clearly, Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad didn’t get that memo.

“Perhaps I should feel insulted; he was so insistent on this meeting, yet he couldn’t even be bothered to come. Did he think sending a pretty face would soften my resolve?” he asked, looking her over appraisingly. His strange golden eyes seemed to linger on her long legs, and she mentally cursed her decision to wear a skirt. She was used to men ogling her, as she was an athletic, highly attractive woman even in her conservative gray suit and brown pumps, but his gaze seemed especially intense, causing goosebumps to rise across her skin. It didn’t matter how hot it was, from now on she was wearing pants, she decided.

Straightening her spine, she stared down at the billionaire coolly, keeping the irritation out of her voice. “Mr. de Sable sent me because I not only know all the details of the proposed deal but helped draft the contract. I can assure you, I am far more than a pretty face.”

He smirked slightly, and she found her eyes briefly lingering on the scar that graced his lips. It was such a strange mark, and probably wasn’t the result of a shaving accident, much as the vindictive part of her secretly hoped it. He was clearly a man used to being in control, with everyone before him falling to his feet. In other words, he was the exact type of man her years of working with Robert had prepared her for.

“I agree; you’re also a nice pair of legs,” he quipped, Arabic accent smooth and dark as melted chocolate. Before she could retort, he continued, “My COO, Malik al-Sayf, and I looked that over. Was it you who added the line where employees of Templar Industries would be permitted to stay at any of my company’s hotels for free?”

“At the behest of our shareholders, yes.”

“Good. Then I can keep this meeting short. I have no interest in signing your little contract, as, among other things, I see no reason to treat men I don’t know like kings for nothing.”

Gritting her teeth, Maria said, “While I’ll admit the higher-ups were most adamant about adding the stipulation for their own benefit, I put it in to motivate our employees to travel to your various technological sites and meet with developers. Free room and board is merely a dangling carrot to encourage cooperation between our best minds. We hardly expect you to treat them like royalty.”

He rested his feet on the coffee table in front of him, clearly not caring if he got dirt on the mahogany wood or scuffed the pristine leather of his Italian shoes. Yet despite his nonchalant posture, his eyes were serious and calculating. “I have in my employ some of the brightest minds in the world. Are you saying your scientists are too good to meet with them?”

“I’m saying scientists can be insufferably introverted. Assuring them that they won’t have to worry about things like accommodations gives them less of an excuse to stay in their labs and communicate exclusively through email.”

She swore she saw him give the barest hint of an approving grin, as if she were a student who had answered the teacher’s question correctly. “I suppose you have a point.” Finally, he patted the spot on the couch next to him. “Sit. I honestly have no interest in working with Templar Industries, but Malik said we should at least hear you out, for the sake of politeness.”

Raising an eyebrow, she deliberately took the seat across from him, placing her binder at his feet. He frowned, but then gave another smirk. Confused, she glanced down, only to realize that her crisp shirt gaped open to give a lovely view of her cleavage when she leaned over. His appreciative stare suddenly made her miss England’s cooler weather so she’d have an excuse to wear turtlenecks. Straightening her back and clearing her throat, she suppressed a blush.

“If that’s the case, then we should get down to business.”

“Yes, but Malik will not be back until tomorrow morning.” Maria stared at him, and he shrugged. “Inclement weather has delayed his flight, and given how he’s my COO, I’d be in for quite an earful if I signed anything without him being here.”

Frowning, Maria bit her lip, concerned. That threw a massive wrench into things. “I see. That’s unfortunate, as I’m to return to England tomorrow.”

“Then I suppose you’d best be very convincing.” Crossing his hands behind his head, he gave her another intense, appreciative once-over. “You only have one night, though, so I do hope you’re good. Would you rather do it here, or shall we retreat to my chambers?”

“Excuse me?” She couldn’t have heard that right. “I’m quite certain there’s no reason to change locations.”

“Yes, I suppose you probably are used to an office setting, aren’t you? Tell me, is this part of your salary, or do you get a bonus?”

“What?”

“For your services. I know from experience that a pretty secretary can be  _very_  persuasive when she puts her mind to it.” His tone was even, but she could hear the undercurrent of smugness clearly. “I doubt it will change my mind, but at least you’ll be able to tell de Sable you tried.”

Her eyes widened as she realized what he was insinuating, and her fists clenched. “You really think Robert would send me simply because I’m an attractive woman?”

“I think that he would be far from the first man to send his mistress to sleep with me just to get a deal signed.”

Maria saw red, and when her vision cleared up, she was standing in front of the Arabian businessman, whose cheek sported a red welt that looked suspiciously like a handprint. Her palm stung, and she dimly noted that she most certainly wasn’t going to get the contract signed now.

Picking up her binder, she gave Altair a terse nod. “I’m sorry we couldn’t come to an agreement, Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad. I’ll inform Mr. de Sable of your refusal. If you’ll excuse me, I have other work to do.” She couldn’t resist adding, “And I’m sure you have an appointment with your hand.”

As she walked away, she felt his eyes follow her out the door and had to force herself to not look back.

XXX

Altair remained staring at the door long after the woman left. She’d slapped him. She had actually slapped him, then insulted him like he was some common fuckboy who had propositioned her in a bar!

He knew he’d offended her. That was intentional. He had no interest in signing anything of Templar Industries. The pharmaceutical research company had earned his disgust long ago, from practically the moment Robert de Sable took over. His opinion had only continued to drop as medicine prices skyrocketed and rumors of morally-ambiguous testing spread. Thankfully, such practices had caused the company some sizable troubles, though he was well aware that it would take more than a few scandals to keep de Sable down.

Altair had told the man over and over that he had no interest in a partnership, each time getting less and less polite about it. Yet the Frenchman had been insistent, even writing up a contract despite his numerous refusals. Altair only agreed to the face-to-face meeting so he could finally drill it into the man’s head that he found him repulsive, his company worthless, and exactly where he could shove his contract. He thought he’d finally been free of his pestering when the Frenchman had called him up the day before, apologizing, claiming that he’d been waylaid by an unexpected meeting, but he’d be sending someone just as capable in his stead. The moment Maria had walked through the door, Altair had known exactly what kind of game he was playing.

So, he called her out, wanting to make sure she realized that, while he’d happily accept her in his bed, it would make no difference on his decision.

Her being offended was to be expected, but the slap threw him for a loop. It wasn't even just that most people wouldn't dare to lash out at one of the richest businessmen in the world; it was that it actually connected. He had years of training, both in parkour and hand-to-hand from his bodyguard, so he didn't get hit easily. Maria was clearly athletic, but how could a common secretary be fast enough to catch him off guard, or strong enough for it to actually hurt?

Then there was the insult she'd thrown over her shoulder as she walked off with a professional air, hips swaying hypnotically and head held high. If the slap hadn't intrigued him, her barbed tongue certainly would. Slapping and insulting a potential business partner was a massive no-no, even if it was obvious that deal wouldn’t go through. Did she assume that merely because he'd already made it clear that he wouldn't be working with Templar Industries, that there was no reason to bother with the normal games of false smiles and banal words?

A secretary with a backbone. How the hell was she working for de Sable? 

Altair knew the man’s style; he had to be control of everything, including the people around him. If he couldn't win them over with his charms, he crushed their wills until they were pliable and subservient. He used every resource he had with cold-blooded efficiency. It wouldn't have been surprising if he kept a beautiful secretary on his payroll just to use as a honey-trap for reluctant clients. It was a well-worn tactic, one that threw the honest businessmen off their games and the sleazy ones were more than happy to take advantage of. Yet, it appeared that de Sable hadn't sent Maria down to seduce him.

Instead, Altair found himself staring after a beautiful, fiery woman with a sharp mind and a strong right hook.

Gingerly, he touched his stinging cheek. She was certainly something else. Even if she wasn’t told to sleep with him, most women wouldn’t have refused the offer, no matter how professional they were. He knew he attracted the ladies like honey does flies and was not used to being rejected. And yet, she did so in an especially bold fashion. 

He grinned, pulling out his cell phone. Maria Thorpe was an interesting woman.

One wasted on Robert de Sable.

XXX

Back in her room, Maria irritably threw the few things she’d unpacked back into her suitcase. Why Robert even thought this deal was a good idea was beyond her. No amount of money and resources was worth dealing with such an arrogant bastard. There had to be another client they could sign.

Grabbing her toothbrush from the en-suite bathroom, she chucked it as hard as she could into her carry-on. Her flight didn’t leave until the next morning, but she had no desire to stay in Altair’s disgustingly opulent mansion until then. If she couldn’t get a hotel that wasn’t owned by the lecherous bastard, she’d just sleep in the airport.

There was a knock on her door, and before she could even answer, Altair strolled through the threshold like he owned the place. Which, given, he did, but it was still rude.

Standing straight and schooling her features, she asked, “Can I help you?”

He regarded her suitcase, face beautiful and expressionless as obsidian. “Going somewhere?”

“Yes. My work here is done, so I thought it best to get out of your hair. I have a plane to catch, after all.”

“You’ll be waiting at the airport for quite a long time.”

She shrugged. “I’ve dealt with layovers and missed flights, so I’ve plenty of practice. Besides, the Dubai airport is far from the worst place to wait.”

“For a whole week?”

She stared at him in confusion. “What are you talking about? My flight is at 5 AM tomorrow.”

That small, yet oh-so-arrogant smirk once again touched his lips and her hand itched to remove it. “Actually, it’s at 9 AM. Next week. Your flight’s been rescheduled. The Dubai airport staff were very accommodating.”

“What?”

“And of course, I’d be remiss to do anything but insist that you stay in my home until then,” he continued as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Now we’ll have plenty of time to go over that contract of yours.”

Her glare could make a gargoyle run in fear, but Altair met her eyes unflinchingly. “A contract you have no interest in signing. Robert will not stand for this; he’s expecting me to be back in the office by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Your boss was the one who booked the flight.”

Fists clenching, Maria stormed over to him. She was a rather tall woman, especially in heels, but Altair had a good few inches on her. The photos hadn’t done him justice. Still, she did her best to look down her nose at the arrogant Arabian. “That’s impossible! I need to get back; Mr. de Sable has an expo to prepare for, plus half a dozen meetings this week.” It was the reason he couldn’t reschedule his own meeting with Altair; if the contract didn’t get signed that day, Robert would have had to wait at least a month to meet with him again, and the elusive billionaire had already been hard enough to pin down the first time around. “And I have my own work to do. Assisting Mr. de Sable is far from my only responsibility.”

The scar on his lips twisted in a way that a lesser woman would find dangerously appealing. He stepped closer, invading her personal space, but Maria refused to back away. She could almost count the dark lashes that enhanced his intense golden eyes, and reluctantly inhaled the fresh scent of his cologne. It was light and musky, with undertones of something she couldn’t quite place. On any other man, she’d find it quite pleasant.

“I spoke to him after our meeting, and he said that he did not mind extending your stay. He assured me he can handle his meetings himself, and any deadlines you might have can be delayed.” Slowly, tauntingly, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the electricity from his brief touch causing her to jerk back. His eyes glinted at her brief display of weakness, an eagle sizing up its prey. “In other words, Miss Thorpe, by order of your boss, I am to have your full, undivided attention.”

Grinding her teeth, Maria glared up at him. “We both know you’ve no interest in signing anything, and I have no desire to submit myself to your presence any further.”

“Interesting choice of words.” She winced, foreseeing the inevitable innuendo. “Sometimes giving up control can be quite…satisfying. But consider this a golden opportunity to change my mind and secure the contract of Creed International.” Gold locked onto steel gray as he ever so gently lifted her hand to his lips, giving the knuckles the lightest of kisses. His lips were surprisingly warm and soft. “I suggest you unpack, then change your clothes. Dinner is in a few hours, and I expect you there.”

Yanking her hand away, she tried to ignore the way the skin tingled where he touched her. “I’m afraid what you see is what you get, Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad. This was supposed to be a brief trip, so I only bothered with the essentials.”

His eyes glittered deviously, even if his face remained politely neutral, and only years of experience restraining her fierce temper kept her from knocking him on his ass. He’d gotten to her once; she wouldn’t give him the pleasure of provoking a second outburst out of her, deserved as it might have been. “I realize this, so I took the liberty of asking the servants to fetch you some suitable clothes for your stay.”

“I’m not staying.”

“You will if you want to please your boss.” Turning to go, he spared her a glance over his shoulder. “I’ll see you at dinner, Maria. I look forward to our week together.”

As soon as she heard his footsteps fade down the spacious hallway, Maria dove for her phone.

Robert answered on the second ring, and before she could even open her mouth, said, “I’m guessing he told you about your extended stay?”

Rage and indignation nearly choked her. “Robert, you cannot be serious!”

She could hear him sigh from the other line. “I’m dead serious, Maria. This deal is too important to let slip through our fingers.”

“He has no interest in the contract; he told me himself! All he’s interested in is getting into my knickers.”

“You’re a capable woman, Maria. You’re smart, professional, and decisive. I’m sure you can convince the man to see things our way, one way or another.”

A small part of her heart swelled to hear him put such faith in her. She just wished it could be for literally anything else. “The man is a lecherous arsehole who sees me as nothing more than a roll in the hay. I have no interest in being in his presence for more than a second. We don’t need him, Robert.”

Her boss’s voice was clipped and tense. “Actually, we do. Or at least I do. I’ve been talking to the shareholders, and I’ve been slowly gaining their support to overthrow King as CEO.” Maria was shocked. Richard King owned their parent company, Lionheart Enterprises. Was Robert serious about making a move against him? “If you can land this contract, I’ll have enough support and power to take his place. Project Eden will finally be back on track. And no one would dare argue against me appointing you as my replacement.”

She bit her lip in contemplation. A promotion? One that wouldn’t be mired with rumors of sleeping her way to the top? It was very tempting. “Really, sir?”

“Really. That’s why I’ve been so persistent. Ibn-La’Ahad is an arrogant fool, but his money and resources speak for themselves. It’s vital to get him to sign.”

“He seems quite resolute in his decision to be a pain in the ass. I’m not sure any amount of logic and decorum could change his mind.”

“What’s today, Monday?”

“Yes, sir.”

“If he hasn’t signed by Sunday night, sleep with him.”

Maria nearly dropped the phone. “What?!” So much for a promotion without rumors.

“I mean it, Maria. If you can’t win him over with your brains, use your body. I want that signature!”

“But sir—”

“And if you can’t, don’t bother coming back.”

With that, the line went dead. Maria stared at the screen, shocked. Was he serious? Did he really mean to overthrow King? To promote her? To fire her if she didn’t succeed? She’d been with the company for years, working hard as his assistant, fighting to break through the glass ceiling. Did he really want her to risk it all for a single contract?

Punching the plush mattress, she fought the urge to scream. Dubai was turning into far more of a headache that she’d planned.

Worst of all, she could still feel the heat of Altair’s touch like a brand.

And she found she didn’t entirely hate the sensation.


	2. Words of Wisdom

Once in his office, Altair’s stoic expression morphed into a smug grin. That had been more fun than he’d expected.

Groomed for the business world since childhood, he was used to everyone around him putting on personas. He’d gotten very good at reading people, assessing their motives and true colors within moments of talking to them. Sometimes, it didn’t even take that much. A handshake or the way they entered a room often told him everything he needed to know about someone before they even opened their mouth. Once he knew what they were hiding, he could be as blunt or as subtle as he liked, manipulating events to give him the best outcome. It was an excellent skill to have, allowing him to navigate the cutthroat business world and charm any woman into bed.

But not Maria Thorpe.

Instead, he’d completely misread her, and in retaliation she had slapped him and walked away. Not that he’d minded watching the way her hips swayed as she moved, peach-perfect bottom hugged by her tight skirt, but he could have done without the stinging cheek or bruised pride. Now, however, he knew what kind of woman he was dealing with. She was the sort who was driven by her career, willing to butt heads with the pig-headed men who dared to stand in her way. She was beautiful, yes, but was likely derided for it, thus forcing her to dress in unflattering, too-big blazers to avoid the sexy secretary stereotype. That was probably why she’d reacted as violently as she had; unconsciously, he’d seen past her walls, touching on some sensitive spots.

Picturing those blazing grey eyes, he licked his lips. She was certainly a treat. The secretary acted all prim and proper, but behind her mask was someone infinitely more interesting. Determination, strength, and a sharp wit were all tucked inside a lovely, curvaceous package that made his loins tighten. Even under that ugly blazer, he knew she had a body made for sin. Hell, she could have been wearing a burqa and he’d know she was gorgeous. He, like his cousin Ezio, had a knack for that kind of thing. Really, it all came down to how a woman carried herself.

Fierce and proud, Maria was the sort that made a man work for her attention. It was something he so rarely found in the women that crossed his path. Easily swayed by his good looks and thick wallet, among other things, he had his fun, whisking them away for a passionate weekend in Monte Carlo or the Caribbean, but after a few days he’d grow bored and send them on their way. From supermodels to heiresses, none could hold his attention for long, doing little more than sating a need. Then came strait-laced Maria, with her long legs and a bluntness to match his own. If that sudden burst of fire she’d shown was any indication, she’d be amazing between the sheets. The idea of coaxing such a woman into his bed and making her beg for him was, quite frankly, intoxicating. 

The fact that she was de Sable’s woman would just make it all the sweeter.

Taking his place behind his ornate, cherrywood desk, he idly played with a letter opener. It had been remarkably easy to convince de Sable to let Maria stay. His ambition of usurping Richard King was making him sloppy. Did he even realize he’d been played? Altair had every intention of contacting Lionheart Enterprises and informing King of the man’s coup, once he’d spat in the Frenchman’s face, of course, but this added a whole new level of fun. If he could steal away his assistant, he was sure he could show the world all the man’s dirty little secrets and bring Templar Industries to its knees.

Leaning back, he imagined de Sable’s face as everything crashed down around him; his power, his influence, and even his woman stripped away. It would probably kill a man like him. Altair sincerely hoped it did.

He frowned. Malik wouldn’t be pleased with the delay in their plans, but once he’d had the chance to explain he’d understand. Or at least refrain from rolling his eyes too much as he had his fun with the delectable woman. They’d waited this long; what was one more week?

With practiced ease, Altair threw the letter opener into the wall, burying the blade two inches deep into the smooth plaster. By next week, Robert de Sable would finally pay for his crimes.

XXX

Not banging her head against the wall in frustration hadn’t been easy, but Maria was grateful she’d resisted the urge. She couldn’t afford to show weakness, and arriving at dinner with a red welt on her forehead would give Altair far too much ammunition. Three hours after the disastrous phone call a maid delivered several boxes, all stamped with logos from designer stores and containing clothes that she balked at the prices of. While Maria had a decent income, she was not the sort to indulge in frivolous luxury, preferring to use her money for things like food and rent. Living in London was expensive. When she did treat herself, it was to new fencing equipment and horseback riding. Robert often teased her over how utterly archaic her hobbies were, but she found there were few things that could compare to the feel of a sword in her hand or the gallop of a powerful horse.

Frowning, she looked over the packages. While the clothes were certainly fit for a princess, she found herself shaking her head in despair. A red cocktail dress had been laid out, the soft material shimmering under the bright lights. It was sleeveless, sporting a plunging neckline, low back, and hem that was much higher than she typically wore. How in the nine levels of Hell he must have crawled out of did Altair know her dress size? But what irritated her most were the shoes. Gold, strappy, and sporting a three-inch stiletto she could stake a vampire with, they proved how utterly clueless the billionaire was. While they would look stunning with the brilliant ruby fabric of the dress, it was common sense that a man should never buy a woman shoes unless she had specifically asked for them.

Trying them on, her suspicions were confirmed; a half-size too big and utterly uncomfortable. They hit her arch wrong, the strap was too loose around her ankle, and the bloody things slipped on the smooth marble of the floor. Perhaps he meant to kill her; clearly, he had bought her a pair of utter deathtraps.

Tossing them over her shoulder, Maria collapsed on the enormous bed, empty boxes and tissue paper falling to the floor. She had no idea the gift of clothes could be such a pain. She was grateful the cotton underwear from Victoria’s Secret were basic and utilitarian, though. If Altair had dared presume to buy her sexy lingerie, she’d set the bloody things on fire. Preferably on top of his obscenely expensive desk.

Glancing about the room, she had to admit his taste in décor was on point, at least. It was bigger than her flat back home, and the gold demask and mandala patterns against white walls shimmered faintly. The floor was so polished she could probably see her reflection, should she decide not to bother with the full-length mirror. There was a small sitting area, white leather couch and matching arm chairs surrounding a glass coffee table and blood red Persian rug. A gold and crystal chandelier hung over her enormous bed. The comforter displayed elegant crimson and gold embroidery, Egyptian cotton sheets were luxuriously soft beneath her fingers, and the mattress might as well have been made of snow, she sank so deeply into it. The mansion was just outside the city, and the ceiling-to-floor windows gave her a spectacular view of the vast desert off in the distance, the setting sun making the wind-swept sands look like an ocean of fire. If this was a guest room, she could only imagine how gorgeous the master bedroom was.

Not that she wanted, in any way, to think about Altair’s room.

Rubbing her eyes, she considered her options. She had no doubts Altair set the whole thing up as an elaborate charade to get her into bed. In any other circumstance, she’d have called up a taxi and booked the first flight home, signed contract or no. But even if her job weren’t on the line, she really did believe in Robert’s cause. The genetic memory research, Project Eden, was his life’s work. Through it, Templar Industries could potentially find a way to cure things like Alzheimer’s, dementia, and depression. But the tests so far had been failures, at least in Richard King’s eyes. He’d cut the project’s funding almost entirely, ordering them to focus on things like inhalers, painkillers, and other standard medical equipment. Useful stuff, but hardly revolutionary.

She shivered slightly. Robert had come back from that meeting absolutely furious, the veins on his neck straining as they only did when he felt he’d been personally wronged. It was terrifying to see the normally composed Frenchman like that, and it was one of the few times she’d ever feared for her own safety in his presence.

That was two years ago, and Robert had been on edge ever since, frantically trying to find ways to continue the project. Project Eden was almost out of money, and Robert could only give so much from his own pocket. They needed Altair’s help. The man was insanely rich, and Creed International had some of the world’s most brilliant technological minds. Combining them with Templar Industries’ scientists could lead to massive breakthroughs, not just on Project Eden, but on things like developing new x-rays, MRI machines, and more. They wouldn’t need Lionheart Enterprises anymore.

With a frustrated sigh, she rolled off the bed and marched over to the bathroom. Dinner would be in an hour, and she might as well grab a shower and look presentable. Much as she’d love to stick it to Altair by going down in her suit, she’d been wearing it since early that morning, and it was starting to feel a bit grungy. And Robert was counting on her to get Altair on their side. Millions of lives could be saved. Her career could be made. So, she’d play nice for now, wear his bloody dress, and get the suit cleaned in the meantime.

She just had to keep herself from killing the rich bastard.

XXX

Despite the sheer size of the mansion, the dining room was easy to find. She just had to follow the amazing smells wafting down the gleaming white hallways. Arriving at her destination, she marveled at the enormous spread on the table. Racks of lamb took center stage upon a gleaming gold tray. Bowls overflowing with seasoned rice, carrots, parsnips, and other vegetables steamed invitingly. Crystal glasses contained what had to be red wine as old as her grandparents. At least a dozen unfamiliar side dishes were scattered about the table, and her stomach growled softly in anticipation.

Next to the table stood Altair, his amber eyes focused solely on her, dark lashes rimming them like kohl. Without her consent, her own eyes took him in appreciatively. He was quite handsome in his white  _sherwani_ , gold and crimson cuffs, collar, and embroidery standing out richly against the pristine silk.  _He looks like he stepped right out of Arabian Nights_ , her brain supplied unhelpfully. Immediately stamping down the thought like an uppity gnat, she defiantly stuck out her chin and strolled calmly towards the table.

Upon Maria’s arrival, Altair had to keep himself from grinning like a schoolboy in a candy shop. She was utterly magnificent in the ruby red cocktail dress, the silken fabric hugging her in all the right places. Her hair tumbled down her back in soft waves and shone like polished mahogany, so dark it almost appeared black. It was far more feminine than her sensible braided updo, and his fingers itched to bury themselves in the delicate strands. A dainty gold pendent dangled between her breasts, matching studs adorning her ears. Her long legs were on full display, the hem stopping just past mid-thigh. Once again, he found himself eyeing them in appreciation. He was certain they would feel amazing wrapped around his waist. Following her creamy legs down, his mood soured slightly; plain, brown, patent leather pumps subtly mocked him, practical and yet utterly unsuitable to the elegant ensemble. Still, she looked stunning, and the more primal part of his brain called for him to pin her against the nearest wall and find out what she tasted like. Would she be sweet like honey, or spicy like cayenne?

Keeping his countenance impassive, he pulled out the chair next to him. He wasn’t going to give her an excuse to sit at the other end of the table. “You look lovely, Miss Thorpe.” He eyed her feet, allowing just a hint of annoyance to show. “Though your accessories leave something to be desired.”

His intense stare made her skin prickle, and she suddenly wished she’d just worn her suit. His face may have been the picture of cool and collected, but those strange, amber eyes of his told her his thoughts were anything but innocent. Still, she wasn’t going to run away just because he was having lustful thoughts. Forcing a look of unbothered mildness, she accepted the offered seat. “The shoes didn’t fit. I would have broken my neck before I even made it to the dining room.” Daintily, she placed a linen napkin on her lap. “I didn’t have such an excuse for the dress. Dare I ask how you knew my size?”

“I simply inquired when I told de Sable you’d be staying with me. He agreed you couldn’t wear the same clothes all week,” he said, taking his own seat. “Though I’m curious as to how  _he_  knew.”

Mentally, she cursed Robert. “He invited me to attend a gala with him last year. When I told him I didn’t have anything to wear, he bought me a dress as a gift.”

A single eyebrow raised suggestively. “Hardly something a boss gives his secretary.”

“And I’m sure a stranger gifting an entire designer wardrobe is so much more appropriate,” she said, teeth gleaming as she smiled coldly.

Surprised, Altair let out a laugh. Smokey and deep, it rumbled in her ears pleasantly. He raised his hands slightly in surrender. “Fair point. I suppose that does come off a little obsessive, doesn’t it? But I couldn’t exactly hand you a credit card and send you to the nearest mall; you’d probably max it out on useless things just to spite me.”

She shrugged slightly, cutting up her lamb into neat little bites. “Probably.” She didn’t want to show it, but his laugh had caught her off guard. Maria was getting the feeling Altair was the kind of man who preferred to keep his cards close to his chest, only allowing people to see what he wanted them to see. So far, his face had been closed off, only allowing the faintest hint of emotion across his features. When he was expressive, it was almost exaggerated, as if he were putting on a mask. Looking back on their encounter in his office, she suspected he’d deliberately played up his lecherous act for the sake of riling her up. He wasn’t completely unflappable, though; his shock at her slapping him had been candid enough, and that laugh, though small, had been genuine.

It was oddly comforting to know that she was able to catch him off guard, too. It leveled the playing field, in a way.

“Next time we’ll go shopping together. We’ve all week, after all, so I’m sure we can find you more appropriate shoes.”

“As there never be a next time, you’re welcome to believe that.”

Shrugging, he tucked into his own meal, cutting the meat into large but even pieces. She was given a few moments of blessed silence as they ate in peace, and she sighed appreciatively at the delicate blend of spices on the lamb. It was so hard to find spicy food in London where the focus was on the flavor, not heat. _I’ll have to ask the cooks for the recipe_ , she thought, chewing reverently.

Unfortunately, Altair ruined her moment of culinary nirvana by talking. “If you don’t mind me asking, what is your relationship with de Sable?”

The lamb became utterly tasteless in her mouth, and she swallowed quickly. “I do mind you asking.”

He gave her a small, banal smile that didn’t even come close to reaching his eyes. “If you want me to even consider signing your contract, you’ll answer the question.”

"I don't see what my relationship with my boss has to do with the contract."

"I want to see how honest you are. I won't sign anything brought by someone who blatantly lies to my face."

She glared. “I’m his executive assistant.”

“Whom he buys clothes for and sends to Dubai.”

“He sent me here because he trusts me to be both knowledgeable of the deal and smart enough to not fall for your charms like every other female on the planet would.” Irritably, she took a sip of wine. “The dress, while unorthodox, was simply him being nice. We’ve worked together closely for five years, after all. However, our relationship is not intimate.”

_ Well, except that one time, _  Maria thought, frowning. She had once believed she had feelings for her boss. He was intelligent, sophisticated, and never acted as if her being a woman meant she was incapable of doing her job. During her first year as his assistant she’d been rather enamored with him, doing those little girly things like making him lunch and rubbing his shoulders when he was tense. Then she and Robert had gotten drunk at the annual holiday party and ended up sleeping together. After that, he had offered to indulge her desire for a relationship, but she’d have to leave the company. He couldn’t, in good conscience, date his subordinate. But the prospect of abandoning everything she had worked for simply for a man had quickly cooled her feelings, and they had remained professional, though amicable, ever since.

That hadn’t stopped the rumors from spreading. One drunken mistake, and she was suddenly the office whore whose position was from sleeping with the boss, not her intelligence or hard work. Robert had put a stop to the blatant accusations, but it hadn’t silenced the whispered insults or condescending looks she got from her peers. She was a black sheep, and overnight Robert had become the only one in the office she could even vaguely consider a friend. And with the long hours and stress of her job, she had little time for a social life outside of work.

It was a rather lonely existence if she were honest with herself.

Altair studied her closely. “So, you’ve never been together?”

“Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad, my personal affairs are really none of your business. But I will tell you right now, I’m not the sort who would throw it all away for a man.”

_ That wasn’t a no, _  he noted. Part of him was disappointed that the two weren’t involved; it would have made his victory all the sweeter. On the other hand, he rather liked the idea of claiming a woman even de Sable couldn’t tame. Clearly, Maria was the sort who held herself to a certain standard and didn’t let down her defenses easily. He looked forward to making her scream for him. “I suppose that makes sense. If you were together, he wouldn’t have let me keep you; he’s not the sort to share his toys.”

Maria took another sip of wine to calm herself. “I am not, nor have I ever been, Mr. de Sable’s toy.”

_ It appears I’ve touched a nerve, _  Altair thought. “You’re right. A toy implies he plays with you. You’re far too uptight for that.” Leaning back in his chair, he shook his head. “No, with how easy it was to convince him to let me keep you here, I’d say you’re just a pawn; useful, but disposable. Just like everyone else that crosses his path.”

“How dare you?” she asked angrily, slamming down her glass. “Robert is far from perfect, but he’s still my boss, and you have no right to talk about him like that!”

“You’re quite defensive.” He shook his head piteously. “Don’t tell me you’re carrying a torch for the heartless bastard? And here I thought you had self-respect. Let me give you some advice; get over him. He’s too in love with himself to get off on anything but his own reflection.”

Maria shot to her feet, knocking her chair over with an echoing clatter. “You arsehole!” she snarled. The logical part of her brain shouted at her to stop, but whether out of loyalty to her boss or the sting of his insults, her hand shot forward.

This time he was prepared, catching her wrist mere inches from his face. Standing with lethal grace, he pulled her against him, wrapping his free arm around her like a python. "Feisty," he murmured thoughtfully. "An unusual trait for someone working for de Sable. In my experience, he prefers people just as cold-blooded as him."

"I'll show you feisty if you don't let me go this instant!" she snapped, tempted to try slapping him again with her unbound hand, but a sharp squeeze to her wrist halted her actions as a jolt of pain shot down her arm.

Golden eyes looked down at her, cold and hard as stone. “I don’t like hurting women, Miss Thorpe, but I’m not so noble that I’ll simply stand by when one attacks me, even if I did intentionally rile her up."

"What, exactly did you stand to gain from pissing me off?"

"Insight into the kind of woman I'll be dealing with this week. Actions speak louder than words, after all. Loyalty is an admirable trait, but it makes you easy to manipulate. Believe me, a bastard like de Sable has plenty of experience."

Glaring murderously, she replied, “The only manipulative bastard I see here is you."

“Everyone in the business world is a manipulative bastard, Miss Thorpe. Some just hide it better.” Altair loosened his grip on her wrist but didn’t release it, instead stroking the smooth skin underneath his fingers. A shiver went down her spine at the sensation, and her sharp mind noted that he was missing his left ring finger. A curious digit to lose, as she couldn’t imagine anything that would cut off that finger but leave the others unharmed. She also noticed the rough callouses on his hands were not something an average businessman would have. They clearly weren’t from signing contracts. “A man like him doesn’t deserve your loyalty or your affections.”

“And you do?” she sneered.

The way her eyes flashed with fire was remarkably enticing. It was amazing; twice this woman had dared to strike him, and even the venom in her voice couldn’t calm the wave of lust that washed over him. He barely reigned in the urge to kiss her, to bend her over the table and claim her in the most primal way. Other women had never provoked this kind of reaction. He’d known actresses and heiresses with bodies built to seduce, who would look at him with blatant invitation in their eyes. Yet he found verbally sparring with Maria far more arousing than even the most indecent of cleavage. True, the feel of her body was delightful, but it was the defiance in her steely eyes, the proud tilt of her chin that was making him hard.

Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to her ear, breathing in her delectable scent; wildflowers and fresh lavender mixed with something unmistakably Maria. “Absolutely.”

She pulled her head back as far as she could, his grip on her no longer constricting, but still confining. She could feel the hard muscles beneath his clothes, and she tried to ignore the various shirtless images she’d seen in supermarket tabloids that unhelpfully popped into her head. “My loyalty is earned, Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad, and so far, all your machinations have gained from me is utter loathing.”

He released her wrist to cup her chin. “Then how does one gain the loyalty of a woman such as you, Miss Thorpe?” He was surprised to feel hard muscle beneath her soft skin. Clearly, the stiff-backed assistant was something of an athlete underneath her sensual curves. He made a note to find something physical they could do together. The image of her skin glistening with sweat, cheeks flushed from exertion sent simmering blood straight down to his cock.

“Not manhandling me is a start.”

That enticed a chuckle from him, and she did her best to ignore the way it pleasantly rumbled through her chest. “That’s no fun, but if you insist…” He was enjoying having the feisty woman in his arms, but he was grateful for the excuse to let her go. The way she wiggled and writhed against him was severely testing his control. It took far more willpower than he cared to admit to keep from grinding his hardening cock against her. He was a man of discipline, not some horny teenager who might rut against her without her consent. So he removed his constricting arm, but not without deliberately running his hand across her back and waist, just to watch her squirm one more time.

Righting her chair, he indicated she sit. “Let’s eat and talk of more pleasant matters. We’ve barely touched dinner, and I’d hate to insult the cooks by letting it get cold.”

“Insulting people seems to be what you’re good at,” she replied snippily, rubbing her wrist. She was utterly ashamed of herself. She’d spent years enduring insults from men, particularly about her position with Robert, and she’d never had such a violent reaction. Yet he’d managed to rile her up twice in less than six hours. What was it about this man that got under her skin?

“I’m a man of many talents. Business, parkour, art, horseback riding, sex; anything that involves great stamina and passion, I excel at.”

She perked up. “You ride horses?”

It took him a moment to register her question. He hadn’t expected her to focus on that. He’d planned on another round of teasing, but the hint of enthusiasm in her eyes was intriguing. “Yes, since childhood. The stable here houses a couple of my best steeds.”

Cautiously, she took her seat. “May I meet them? I’m rather fond of horses.”

Surprised yet pleased at the turn in the conversation, he took his own place, serving himself some rice. “I’d be happy to escort you to the stables. I must warn you, they’re rather spirited. They rarely allow strangers to approach, and the stallion doesn’t let anyone but me ride him most days. The mare is gentler, but has been known to kick. She actually bit me last week when I neglected to give her the apple I had in my pocket.”

“A woman after my own heart.”

The two shared a chuckle and proceeded to eat, the silence between them a bit more amicable. As she finished off the last of the vegetables on her plate, Maria decided it was time to get some questions answered.

“So, you mentioned escorting me to the stables. Can I roam about the mansion, or am I to be locked in my room unless called upon?”

His face remained stoic, but a flash of something almost like pain crossed his eyes. “You are not a prisoner, Miss Thorpe. For the next week, the mansion and its grounds are your home. You do not need my permission to go anywhere, and everything from the pool to the library is open to you. Everything is permitted.”

“Even leaving?”

“Of course. If you decide to leave the grounds, I’m sure my driver will be happy to take you anywhere you wish. Including the airport.”

Pleased to hear she wouldn’t be under his thumb all the time, she quipped, “So, there’s no west wing that I’m forbidden from entering, where I’ll discover a magic rose and enchanted furniture?”

A surprised grin came to his face. Now this was an amusing development. “You never struck me as the Disney sort.”

“I didn’t strike you as anything beyond a pretty face and a nice pair of legs until I slapped you. There are many things you don’t know about me.”

Altair stood and offered his hand. “I look forward to finding them out.” After a moment’s hesitation, she accepted it and allowed him to escort her back to her room. She’d been able to follow her nose to dinner, but she was still woefully unfamiliar with the mansion’s layout and was silently grateful for the guidance, just this once.

“Though you are a guest in my home, I do have a few rules I expect you to follow while you’re here,” he said, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm as they made their way up the stairs.

Her eyebrow raised suspiciously. “Oh? I thought everything was permitted.”

“Including me enforcing rules.” A tiny smirk graced his face. It was fascinating how such a small quirk of the lips could be so smug. Maria decided it was the thing she hated about him the most.

“Then what might they be, Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad?” she asked, rolling her eyes.

“One, you are to join me for dinner every night. Breakfast and lunch are optional, but encouraged.”

Maria’s lips twitched into a tiny frown. While not unexpected, she didn’t care for how imperiously he decreed it.

“Secondly, if you decide to leave the property, you are to inform me or one of the staff where you’re going and when you’ll be back. And if you’re going out unaccompanied, be back by dinner.”

“And here I could have sworn you said I could leave whenever I wanted,  _without_  your permission.”

“You don’t need my permission to leave, but I appreciate staying informed. It’s for your own safety. Dubai’s a big city, and while I won’t force you to bring along a bodyguard or escort, I’d rather not risk anything happening to you.” The look her gave her was both serious and oddly warm, like he was genuinely concerned. “I’d insist the same for any of my guests. Even de Sable.”  _Mostly so I could keep track of his movements,_  he mentally added.

“I can assure you, I can take care of myself,” Maria said shortly. Inside she was seething. Letting him know where she was going and when she’d be back was not an unreasonable request, but she hadn’t had a curfew since high school. One which she’d gleefully broken more than a few times.  _If my father couldn’t tell me what time to be home, what chance does this arrogant arse think he’s got?_  she thought snidely.

“Third, because I know you’ve already planned it, you cannot wear that same suit every day. In fact, you're never wearing it in my presence again.”

Of course at least one of his rules was outright insane. She really shouldn’t have expected anything less. “What do you have against my wardrobe?”

“Let’s start with the fact that it does absolutely nothing for you. Really, de Sable can buy you a new dress for a gala, but he can’t get you a suit that actually fits?” He looked at her critically, like a painter assessing his subject. “The skirt is passible, but the jacket is clearly a man’s blazer. It’s far too big in the torso and forearms, to the point where it practically swallows you.”

“It fits well enough,” she grumbled. “Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad, I wear clothes to get the job done. As you may have noticed, I’ve been gifted with a rather athletic figure. That means my shoulders and biceps are bigger than what is generally considered attractive in a woman, and thus, makes finding things like blazers an absolute chore. The men’s section is far more accommodating in that regard, and while it doesn’t exactly give me the most flattering silhouette, it’s suitable for the task at hand. If I must dress like a man to get an ounce of respect from the lecherous pigs in the boardroom, then so be it.”

He seemed to consider her words for a few moments before shaking his head. “Your reasons are understandable, but as an artist I find such disproportion painful to look at. If you find any of the clothes I had purchased for you unsuitable to your needs, I’ll gladly take you shopping. But if I see you in that suit again, I promise I’ll order the servants to cut it up and use the scraps as cleaning rags.”

“I’m quite certain that counts as destruction of private property, Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad. I could sue you.”

“Over a suit? I own shoelaces that cost more than that thing. Are you truly willing to waste your own time and money over a single outfit?”

“I’m known for being rather stubborn. Are you willing to risk it just so you can dictate what I wear?”

“Of course. My lawyers have to earn their keep, after all.”

Grinding her teeth, Maria said, “Anything else, Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad?”

“Yes. Now that’s we’ve known each other more than a few hours, you’re to call me Altair, and I will call you Maria. I’d like us to be on more familiar terms.”

“As I’m here on business, I’m afraid I must decline. I prefer not to be overly familiar with clients, as it tends to give them the wrong idea as to what liberties they may take.”

“Do you get a lot of men taking liberties with you?”

_ Yes, especially arrogant Arabs who trick my boss into forcing me to stay in their ridiculous mansions. _  “A few have tried.”

“I’m sure they’ve felt the sting of your palm for doing so.”

At last they arrived at her room, and she impatiently pulled her hand from his elbow. “Well, if that’s all, Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad, I intend to get some sleep.” Twisting the doorknob, she was eager to make her escape into the relative safety of her room. “I’m sure I’ll see you in the morning, and perhaps then we can finally talk about a partnership between our companies.”

Altair shook his head. “You are the very epitome of all work and no play. Tell me, Maria, when was the last time you were properly fucked?”

Her steel-gray eyes widened almost comically as she spun to face him, completely shocked. Even his comments in the office hadn’t been that brazen. “What the hell gives you the right to ask that? If you're trying to rile me up again—”

“I’m simply curious. You’re not de Sable’s lover, and you’re so uptight, so either you’re single, or your boyfriend is utterly useless in bed.” He stepped closer, leaning his weight against the door, looming over her. “I’d be happy to offer my assistance.”

Unbidden, images of him pinning her against the wall and fulfilling that promise flashed before her eyes. Heat rose to her cheeks as her back straightened defensively. Was he seriously that brazen? “I can assure you, any tension you perceive comes from being in your presence.”

“Do I make you tense, Maria? My apologies.” Winding his arms around her waist, he pulled her against him. The heat of his body washed over her, and his cologne beckoned for her to bury her nose into the crook of his neck. His cool expression practically melted as his heated, lustful gaze caressed her skin. “If that’s the case, I’m obligated to help. Why leave matters to your own hands when you have a willing partner right here?”

For the first time, Maria wished she had worn the shoes he’d given her; she doubted even his libido could survive a stiletto through the foot. “You pig! I was willing to ignore your flirting, but if this is how you treat a business associate, then I’m leaving, contract or no.”

“You say that, but don’t mean it.”

“I most certainly do!”

“No, you don’t. You’re too proud for that. It’s something we have in common, actually; when faced with a challenge, we refuse to back down.” The tips of his fingers ran teasingly down her bare spine, and an involuntary shiver of pleasure ran through her. “You want my signature, and I want you. Ordinary people would compromise, or give up. But not us. Neither of us wants to give the other what they desire, but won’t abandon our own goals.” He leaned forward until he was all that filled her vision. “It’s what makes the game so exciting.”

Maria stood tall and prim in his embrace, but she couldn’t fault his analysis. She wouldn’t back down from a challenge. Never had. It was why, even amongst the rumors and the glares, she had stayed at Templar Industries. She didn’t run away from a little adversity. Not even when it had her pinned against a man who, she reluctantly admitted, exuded raw sexuality like the sun radiated heat. “Perhaps you’re right. It’s probably the only reason I haven’t already kneed you in the groin. But considering how I could change my mind, you’d be wise to let me go.”

“I’ll let you go on one condition,” he murmured, a devilish glint in his eye.

“Which is?”

“Say my name.”

She frowned. “Mr. Ibn—”

Her breath caught as he pulled her in even closer. Ripe breasts pressed temptingly against his chest, and he could feel the way her heart raced inside her ribcage. “See, it’s things like that which could lead a man to think you don’t  _want_  him to let you go.” Idly, his fingers played with the ends of her wavy hair. It was as soft as it looked, and he imagined it would feel magnificent against his torso. “I appreciate your defiance, but some words of wisdom; pick your battles. You say you want me to let you go, yet you defy a simple request.” He leaned in, and her heart pounded as their noses touched, breath mingling with hers. “If my name’s too difficult for you, I’ll make it easier. Kiss me, and I’ll let you go.”

“Altair.”

He nearly purred at the way his name sounded in her crisp accent. He was looking forward to making her moan it by the end of the week. “Very good, but you missed your chance.” Removing one of his arms, he barely brushed his fingers over her cheek. “The price is now a kiss. Unless you’d like me to increase it further?”

Anger started to surge forth, but was halted as an idea hit her. Pushing up onto her toes, she paused just a hairsbreadth from his lips. “Just a kiss,” she whispered breathily, “and you’ll let me go to my room?”

Surprisingly, Altair found himself swallowing a lump that had formed in his throat. He had no idea her voice could get so soft. It was rather intriguing after the biting insults and shouting. “Of course. I’m a man of my word.”

Her hand reached up to gently cup his jaw, and he held his breath in anticipation. Her lips looked soft and inviting, and once again he mused over what she would taste like. Before he could blink, she jerked his head to the side and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. Pulling away, she smirked triumphantly.

It took him a moment to register what happened, but once it did, he glared at her. “I told you to kiss me,” he growled.

“And I did. You simply left it up to me where exactly to kiss.” Gray eyes glimmered in victory, and he was at a loss for words. She found she liked rendering him speechless. “A bit of advice, Altair; choose your words carefully.”

His name on her lips snapped him back into reality, and he felt his smirk returning as he dropped his arms. “Well said, Maria. Words have power, after all.”

Maria stepped away, smoothing the wrinkles from her dress. Altair found his eyes following her hands as they ran over her curves, his own fingers twitching in temptation. “Well, if that is all, I think it’s time I bid you goodnight.”

“Sweet dreams, Maria,” he said, mouth practically caressing her name. He saw heat rise to her cheeks, and he mentally patted himself on the back. “Please, do join me for breakfast tomorrow.”

“As that’s not a requirement, according to your rules, I think I’ll decline.”

“True, but I find I’m usually quite amiable after a good night’s sleep. Perhaps even enough to be convinced to sign your little contract.”

She gave a rather unladylike snort. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

“True, but can you really risk missing your chance?” Scarred lips formed a smile that looked entirely too much like a satisfied cat. “Besides, Malik should be there. You might have some luck convincing him of the merits of partnering with Templar Industries. He is my COO, after all, and could be a valuable ally in your campaign.”

She frowned, and he leaned close enough to whisper in her ear, “Like I said, pick your battles, Maria.” He relished saying her name, dangling his small victory over her like a ripe piece of fruit. His breath was hot on her skin, and he could see her chest rise as she inhaled sharply from the sensation.

Fists clenching around the handle, she tugged the door open. “I’ll see you at breakfast, Altair,” she spat, slamming it behind her with an echoing  _thump_.

Altair let out a deep breath, mind focused on cooling the fire ignited within him. Only one day of knowing Maria, and already she was testing his control. The base, primal side of him demanded he simply walk in there, pin her to the bed and show her exactly what he could do to that enticing body of hers. She could fight all she liked, but he knew how to read the signs of arousal in a woman’s body. The Englishwoman was attracted to him, even if she was too proud to admit it.

The challenge was fighting that instinct and ensuring Maria acknowledged her desire before he went in for the kill. He’d never slept with an unwilling woman in any regard, and refused to be one of those fuckboys in the nightclubs who didn’t know how to take “no” for an answer. Still, he knew he was capable of overstepping his boundaries. There had been few strong female figures in his life; he never knew his mother, his cousin Claudia lived in Italy, and to call Al Mualim a feminist would be like calling a lion a vegetarian. The old man had certainly drilled into him and Malik that women were best used for sating their urges. Over the past decade, Altair had worked hard to throw off his mentor’s teachings, and liked to think he had found a decent balance. Yes, he pushed and teased and even made brazen comments, but only after closely observing his target, and the second a woman said “no,” he backed off.

He was especially conscious of this in the bedroom. Women were to be worshipped, and while he didn’t bother with relationships, he made sure that every woman he slept with was thoroughly pleasured before he even considered his own needs. The sounds of a woman in the throes of ecstasy, begging him for more was its own reward, and he enjoyed the power it gave him. The problem was that most came to him, attracted by his charms and reputation, so Maria’s resistance was something of an anomaly. It made those years of conditioning the old man had hammered into him rear its ugly head, the message of  _do what you must to take what you want_ echoing in his head.

Altair shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He may desire Maria in the worst way, but he wouldn’t take her without consent. He refused to be that sort of man.

Instead, he'd seduce her. He’d draw her in, give her samples of the pleasure he could bestow upon her, and finally, she’d come to him. By the end of the week, she’d accept his offer, begging him with that posh accent to fuck her, to make her succumb to the urges he ignited in her. And he’d be more than happy to reward her compliance with all the pleasure her luscious body could handle.

This game was getting more interesting by the minute, and Maria was a beguiling opponent. The way her stare burned reminded him of the stories of Djinn, whose eyes were full of fire as they granted their master’s wishes. As he was certain she would eventually fulfill his every desire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any guesses as to what Robert did? Or how Altair's going to seduce Maria? She's going to make him work for it, I can tell you that!


	3. The Power of a Signature

As he made his way to his bedroom down the hall, Altair felt more than saw the large man fall into step beside him.

“Rauf. I’m sure you’re aware of my guest.”

Rauf was the head of Altair’s security team, not only for Creed International but in his home. A former soldier, the man had spent the past twenty years keeping Altair out of trouble, both from attackers, the paparazzi, and the occasional jilted lover. A great bear of a man, he was the sort who looked like he could kill you with one hand. “Indeed, sir. Any special instructions? Or shall I follow the protocol you set up for de Sable?”

Altair waved a dismissive hand. “No. She’s my guest, and she is to be granted every courtesy. But I do want you to keep an eye on her comings and goings. She’s permitted to leave the grounds without me, but have her shadowed in case of trouble. The staff is also to report any phone calls, odd conversations, or sneaking around.”

“Should I tap her phone?”

He considered it for a moment. “No. Not right now, at least. Allow her some privacy. She may work for de Sable, but I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt. It may be that she’s not completely in his pocket. If you notice anything that could cause a problem, though, I trust your judgment.”

“So, you just want me to make sure she doesn’t run away, and to report back any suspicious movements or information you could use to get her into bed.”

“How—?”

“I’m trained to notice things. I’ve never known you to invite a woman to stay at the mansion for more than a few days, even on business. You bought her designer clothes, got dressed up for dinner, and walked her back to her room. And yet you’re going to bed alone. She turned you down hard,” he chuckled.

Altair rubbed his cheek ruefully. “She also may have slapped me.”

Rauf’s chuckle morphed into a full belly laugh. “Of course! Definitely the sign of a woman worth pursuing!” He grinned cheekily. “You sure she needs my protection?”

Altair returned the grin. He looked like he could kill without a thought, but really, Rauf was one of the most genial men he knew. He and Malik had known him since they were children, the man having been hired to keep them from getting kidnapped or killed, and had built up a good rapport with him. He’d taught them both important survival skills and was the one who introduced the billionaire to the art of parkour. “She’s a feisty one, but I’d rather not risk anything. Guard her with your life.”

He gave a salute. “Yes, sir. She’s safe with me.”

XXX

Lying in bed, Maria groaned as sleep continued to elude her. Much as she hated to admit it, Altair’s words kept echoing through her head.

_When was the last time you were properly fucked?_

A shiver ran through her, and she was ashamed at how her skin tingled at the memory. The honest answer was “too long.” The sensation of his hot hands and deep voice lingered over her body like a fine mist. She’d known him less than a day, but she could easily imagine him looming over her, naked, touching her in ways she’d only read about in bodice-rippers. In another life, perhaps she wouldn’t have been so quick to turn Altair down. She wasn’t against hooking up, but after her disastrous one-night stand with Robert, she did her best to present herself as completely uninterested in sex and relationships around the office. Her busy schedule left no time for a social life, anyway, to the point even Robert had commented on it. The last proper date she’d had was when he’d tried setting her up with an old colleague of his, a man by the name of Armand Bouchart.

Her nose wrinkled, and she pushed the memory away. Robert had been quite contrite about that unfortunate event, apologizing profusely for almost a week, even after she’d already forgiven him. It wasn’t his fault his old friend had turned out to be such a chauvinist. But the fact was, her dating life had been woefully lacking, and her sex life nonexistent. It had to be the reason Altair’s touches affected her.

 _You want my signature, and I want you. Ordinary people would compromise,_  Altair’s voice whispered.

Robert’s orders chimed in,  _If he hasn’t signed by Sunday night, sleep with him. If you can’t win him over with you brains, use your body._

Biting her plump bottom lip, she shook her head. There would be no compromise. If she offered to sleep with him in exchange for the contract, Altair would still probably screw her over. He’d take her to bed, then refuse to sign, having already gotten what he wanted. And she had no doubt he’d accuse her of having the same plan if she insisted on him signing first.

 _But perhaps a bit of flirting couldn’t hurt,_  her mind whispered.  _Tease him like he’s teasing you. Make him want you so badly he’ll do anything to have you._

Her unhelpful mind supplied an image of her in a sexy skirt and low-cut blouse, stroking his chest, whispering promises of fulfilling his desires if he’d just sign on the dotted line. He’d moan as her hand dipped lower, stopping just above where he wanted it most, finally giving in and agreeing to sign anything she wanted if she’d _just fucking touch him_. It looked like something from a porno, and she immediately banished the thought.

There were at least a dozen ways that could backfire spectacularly. He could call her bluff, leaving her utterly humiliated as he mocked her for trying to beat him at his own game. Or he could take it as an invitation to bed her, thinking any protests she might give were just her playing hard to get.

 _Or,_  she thought with a shiver,  _I could go too far and start to like it._

Because there was something magnetic about Altair that drew her in. Charismatic, athletic men who refused to back down from a challenge were definitely her type. It was why she’d fallen for her boss, back before she knew better. But while both men were charming, determined, and handsome, Robert had appealed to her on a more intellectual level. He was a man of both business and science, who could talk for hours about the latest medical papers in his various scientific magazines with such gusto she didn’t even care when she couldn’t understand it. With Altair, physical attraction was king. Despite her irritation, she found her mind wandering to the corded muscles she felt underneath his shirt when he pulled her close. How would they look, glistening with sweat as he took her against the wall? She could certainly imagine the smirk he’d wear as he pleasured her, the scar across his lips making his expression so much more dangerous and tantalizing. If he weren’t such a pain, she wouldn’t mind riding him like a prized stallion.

Rolling over, she buried her head in the plush pillows and willed herself to sleep. She did  _not_  want the infuriatingly handsome jerk, with his dark voice and warm hands. She would get through the week with her dignity in tact, and her lack of sex life did not give him an advantage.

Once she had Altair’s signature and Robert promoted her, she’d have a better chance at playing the field. Until then, she had every intention of keeping the arrogant billionaire out of her knickers.

XXX

When he came down to breakfast, Altair was pleased to see Malik already at the table, helping himself to turkey sausage, eggs, and croissants. He was a tall man, impeccably dressed in a dark navy suit and tie, black hair neatly combed and small goatee meticulously trimmed. It seemed the man hadn’t allowed a delayed flight to keep from looking as fastidious and professional as ever. His skin was several shades darker that Altair’s, and his broad, unmistakably Arabic nose and dark eyes had certainly earned him the attentions of his own fair share of women. But the glare he gave as Altair strolled in was a swift reminder that, unlike his boss, Malik was not the sort to needlessly indulge when there was work to be done.

“Malik! How was your trip?”

His sneer deepened. “Irritating. Though not half as much as returning home and discovering you’ve delayed our plans for the sake of getting laid.”

Altair sighed. He knew this conversation would happen sooner rather than later, but he would have preferred to have had it after breakfast.

“You’ve heard?”

“Rauf filled me in on the ride over. He seemed quite amused.”

 _Of course,_  Altair thought wryly, grabbing an omelet and some toast. Rauf always made sure Malik was informed of his more embarrassing moments. He claimed it kept him humble, but Altair was certain the man was secretly a gossip.

“So, one woman has enough self-respect to not fling herself at you like a cat in heat, and suddenly justice gets put on the back burner?”

Looking towards the door, Altair listened carefully for the sound of footsteps heading towards the dining room. The last thing he needed was for Maria to walk in and hear something she shouldn’t. He heard nothing, but choose to respond in Arabic to be safe.  **“It’s more than that, Malik. We’ve managed to dig up plenty on de Sable, but if anyone could give us information we’ve missed, it’s her.”**

His COO at least had the courtesy to switch to their mother tongue as well, despite his obvious annoyance. In fact, he managed to sound even angrier in Arabic. **“And you decided the best way to get her to reveal those secrets isn’t through bribery or telling her what kind of man he is, but by giving her a good dicking?”**  Altair almost winced. Yep, Malik was mad. Though a sour man by nature, he usually had far more decorum; he only got crass in extreme circumstances. Like when he was sleep deprived and frustrated at his best friend. 

**“My way is better.”**

**“It sounds like the sort of plan Ezio would come up with.”**

He gave a tiny, fond smile despite Malik’s tone. His cousin Ezio Auditore had a sexual reputation that made Altair look like a monk. The man lived the playboy lifestyle to the fullest, making the cover of every tabloid magazine for some sort of scandal at least once a month. Honestly, it was a miracle none of his former lovers had come forth with illegitimate children.  _Maybe I should introduce him to Maria,_  he thought.  _She’d see I’m an angel in comparison._

**“She’s been de Sable’s secretary for five years, Malik. Clearly, he trusts her. I’m making a tactical move. She’s unimpressed by my wealth, so a bribe is futile. She’s loyal, too. I insulted de Sable at dinner last night, and she tried to slap me.”**

**“If de Sable trusts her, then it’s for a damn good reason. She’s damaged goods.”**

**“She may not even realize what he’s done. I’ll admit, he’s good at hiding his true nature. Otherwise, we’d have brought him down years ago.”** He took a bite of a juicy plum, and he idly wondered if Maria would taste as sweet.  **“I’m doing her a favor; if she’s innocent to his crimes, I’ll be able to open her eyes to the truth. Maybe it will even convince her to leave him before the shit hits the fan. If she is aware, then having her will just be one more wound I can inflict on him.”**

**“Just tell her and send her home. I’m not interested in waiting around so that you can get laid.”**

**“Do you really think she’ll believe me? Loyalty like hers isn't easily broken.”**

**“Then it’s a waste of our time, and utterly pointless.”**

He slammed his hand on the table, making the silverware rattle.  **“There’s every point! After what he’s done, I won’t be satisfied until he’s experienced true pain. So, I’m going to take her from him, just like I’ll take everything else he has.”**  His heated gaze lingered on Malik’s missing arm.  **“Just like he took everything from you.”**

Malik’s features softened only slightly, but Altair could tell his anger had cooled.  **“Then stop playing around and stick to the plan. We’ve got what we need from our man on the inside. If she’s truly innocent, drop the pretense and let her go home.”**

 **“I’ve already made up my mind, Malik.”**  Altair shook his head ruefully.  **“Besides, if I send her home now, de Sable might get suspicious. Give me a week. I’ll show her he’s utter scum and convince her to defect to our cause. She’s smart, determined, and intelligent. With a woman like her, we could utterly destroy Templar Industries.”**

**“And the fact that she is, according to Rauf, a ‘gorgeous, fiery brunette with legs a mile long,’ has _nothing_ to do with it?”**

The smile he gave reminded the one-armed businessman of a wolf who had cornered its prey.  **“I’m not saying I’m not looking forward to fucking her, but really, it’s all for the sake of the plan. If I could, I’d fuck her right in front of de Sable, just to rub that extra bit of salt in the wound.”**

Sighing, Malik turned to his scrambled eggs, switching back to English. “Just don’t end up ruining eight years of hard work, Novice.”

The old insult was oddly comforting, and Altair leaned back confidently, like a sultan on his throne. “Believe me, when you see her, you’ll know she’s worth the trouble. She’s quite fascinating; far better than a man like de Sable deserves.”

Less than a minute later, the sound of heels came echoing down the hallway, and the two men rose to greet their guest. Maria strolled into the room, wearing a tight black skirt and flowy white blouse with a high neck but open shoulders, hair once again neatly braided around her head like a crown.

Pulling out the chair next to him and across from Malik, Altair motioned for her to sit. “Good morning, Maria. I trust you slept well?”

She pointedly walked to the other side of the table, rejecting his offered seat. “As a matter of fact, I did. I dreamt you signed the contract with no fuss and sent me back to London. Pity it was nothing more than a fantasy.” Malik gave a short or amusement, and she turned to face the newcomer. “You must be Malik al-Sayf.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Maria Thorpe, Executive Assistant to Robert de Sable. I’m sorry your flight prevented us from meeting sooner.”

Keeping his expression blank, Malik looked her over. She was certainly beautiful, though not in the models-and-movie-stars way that Altair usually went for. She did have amazing legs, he noted, admiring the definition of her calves, and her pink lips looked very kissable. But it was her blatant disregard for Altair’s charm and the steel in her eyes that captured his attention. She carried herself like a warrior, exuding an aura that warned mere mortals from approaching. The Englishwoman was a bonfire; enchanting to watch, but happy to burn anyone foolish enough to touch her.

No wonder Altair was so obsessed with her. The fool did so love playing with fire.

“Charmed.” Reaching out, he grasped her outstretched hand. He blinked in surprise as he felt familiar callouses on her otherwise soft skin. “Do you fence?”

“I do, actually. Since university. Recreationally, mostly, but I’ve competed in a few small tournaments.” A small but genuine grin touched his lips, and she hesitantly returned it. “I heard you’re quite the fencer yourself. You were a candidate for the 2008 Olympics, weren’t you?”

“Yes, but circumstances forced me to withdraw.”

Maria bit her lip, pointedly looking at his face instead of his missing arm as she recalled exactly why he’d quit. Everyone who had even a passing interest in fencing had heard about the accident. A drunk driver had cost one of the Middle East’s most promising fencers his arm, his little brother, and almost his life.  _Way to stick your foot in your mouth, Maria,_  she thought reproachfully. Though given the callouses she felt on his dark skin and the strength in his grip, the injury hadn’t caused him to give up entirely.

Realizing she was still holding his hand, she released her grip immediately. Clearing her throat awkwardly, she hoped she hadn’t insulted him. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad had said he preferred to have you present for any contract negotiations.”

“So he can have someone to say no while he flirts with you.”

Maria didn’t miss a beat. “I assure you, Mr. al-Sayf, since I’ve gotten here, I’m the one who keeps saying no.”

Malik actually laughed, the sound deep and rich like good coffee. He seemed like a man who didn’t laugh often, and she found herself oddly pleased to have caused it. Pulling out the chair next to him, he bade her sit. “We can wait until after breakfast for any further business talk. I find such things are better on a full stomach.”

She happily sat down and started filling her plate. “Personally, I think such a discussion would benefit being held while certain parties’ mouths are full.” Altair glared at her, and she shot back with a charming smile, emboldened by Malik’s warm chuckle in her ear.

The darker man took a sip of his drink, grinning mockingly at his friend. “Why did I never think of that?”

Altair wasn’t sure if he was annoyed or horrified at their sudden, easy friendship. It had taken years of intense rivalry and hatred before he and Malik had finally become friends, yet Maria managed it within minutes. And Malik had coerced her into sitting next to him without even trying. The smile she gave was easy and her steely eyes glimmered with laughter. He hadn’t seen her expression soften like that last night until he mentioned horses. Malik and Maria. Even their names sounded pleasant together. He felt almost…jealous.

Squashing down the feeling, he flashed them a grin. “Because, Malik, if my mouth were full, you’d be forced to do all the talking, and I know how you hate dealing with people for more than five minutes.”

“True. I suppose that’s why I haven’t gagged you.” He shrugged apologetically at the woman beside him. “Of the two of us, he is typically the more, let’s say, diplomatic. I don’t suffer fools. Well, aside from him.”

Maria raised an eyebrow and swallowed a mouthful of eggs. “He’s the diplomatic one? I’ve been here one day and I’ve already slapped him. I can’t imagine you’re worse.”

“Give me time. I can be a real asshole when I want to be.”

Before she could answer, her cell phone rang, Joan Jett’s “Bad Reputation” cutting through the air like lyrical arrows. Pulling it out of her pocket, Robert’s name popped up on the caller ID.

“Speaking of assholes,” Altair mumbled.

She glared at him but was in no position to start another argument. “I’m so sorry, gentlemen, but I need to take this.” Taking a deep breath, she answered calmly, “What can I do for you, sir?”

While they couldn’t hear the exact words, the tone of de Sable’s voice and the way Maria bit her plump bottom lip made it obvious that he was angry about something. Getting up from the table, she quickly strolled over to the far end of the room, barely able to get out the occasional syllable before being cut off.

As the woman walked away, the two men simultaneously admired her pert backside. Altair’s mind was filled with images of her bent over his desk, moaning his name and pleading for him to take her hard. It was a delightful thought that reminded him that he’d likely need to wear looser trousers over the next week.

Malik turned to Altair, addressing him in Arabic.  **“I hate to say it, but you’re right; de Sable definitely doesn’t deserve a woman like that. Of course, I’m not entirely sure you do, either.”** A slow, smug grin spread across his lips. **“Perhaps she should stay with me. I’m sure she’d appreciate a change of scenery.”**

 **“She’s mine,”**  he snarled, a sudden surge of possessiveness roaring through him. He’d known the woman for a day, and he was already claiming ownership? But then, Malik had known her for ten minutes and was already trying to take her away. Sense seemed to take a back seat when it came to the woman.

 **“So you say, but she seems to like me better**.  **If you’re so eager to get her away from de Sable, perhaps I should be the one to seduce her.”**

The thought of Malik having her in his bed, her sweet form writing beneath him in ecstasy made his hand clench around his fork. **“Touch her, and not even Rauf will find your body.”**

Malik observed how the scar on his lip twisted fiercely and his golden eyes flashed. Altair had always been possessive. They both were, honestly, as they’d learned early and often that anything they cared about could be taken away at a moment’s notice. Such an upbringing tended to create men who greedily guarded their treasures. But he’d never seen him like this towards a woman. His regard for Maria rose a notch higher.  **“You’re oddly jealous. I thought she was just another cog in your master plan? What does it matter which one of us wins her to our side? Given how I’m the one that’s suffered most at de Sable’s hands, wouldn’t it be more fitting if I were the one to fuck her?”**

Altair didn’t get the chance to respond before the woman in question returned, noticeably flustered.

“I’m so sorry about that. Someone misplaced the files needed for this morning’s meeting.”

Malik smiled charmingly. “So, you’re gone one day and everything goes to hell?”

She shrugged, a small blush dusting her cheeks. “I wouldn’t say that. Mr. de Sable’s usually quite meticulous and organized. It’s just that things have been quite hectic in the research departments, and since he doesn’t have me for backup, it’s causing some confusion.”

“Still quite rude of him to call at breakfast,” Altair said.

Resuming her place next to Malik, she allowed the man to refill her drink. “I’d rather he call me while I’m eating than let something slip through the cracks.”

Malik observed her carefully. She was quite the consummate professional. “How long have you worked for him?”

“A little over five years now. I got the job right out of college. I hadn’t expected to stay with the company for so long, but the more I learned about Robert’s work, the more I knew I had to stay.”

“And what do you know about his work?” Altair asked coolly.

She looked him dead in the eye, surety and determination in her gaze. “That Project Eden, while unconventional, could help a lot of people.”

Malik munched on a croissant. “I’ve heard the past several tests have been…unsuccessful. Subject 16 was quite the fiasco, wasn’t it?”

She paled. Subject 16 had nearly been the death of Project Eden. The human testing phase of the technology was supposed to have been absolutely secret, but somehow what had happened to Clay Kaczmarek had leaked to the press.

The memory made her stomach twist horribly. They’d been using him to study the chemical imbalance that caused depression. She’d had the chance to talk to the young man, and while he’d been somewhat reserved at first, his cocky but friendly demeanor had struck a chord inside her. It was the first time in so long that someone inside the confining walls of Templar Industries had been openly friendly to her. It made her realize that, as much as she believed in Robert’s cause, she couldn’t thrive in such a toxic environment. There was no chance for advancement with the stigma surrounding her, and Robert hadn’t seemed interested in promoting her. She’d decided to take a week off to reconsider her options and take a breather. After much thought, she’d decided, despite all the good Templar Industries could do, it was time for her to take her life in a new direction.

She’d come back to work, resignation letter in hand, to discover Clay had committed suicide.

For the next month, she, Robert, and the PR team had worked overtime to keep the scandal from destroying the company. It had been an unfortunate accident, one that would never happen again, they’d constantly assured the press. She’d put all thoughts of quitting on the back-burner until things had settled down out of a sense of duty, but Clay’s death weighed heavily on her conscience. The man had volunteered for the treatments to help deal with his depression, and instead it had driven him to take his own life. Something about the whole thing hadn’t sat well with her. So, on her own time, she’d done some digging and had managed to get hold of Clay’s medical records and the doctor’s research notes. What she’d found had made her storm into Robert’s office, ready to tear the man a new one.

Dr. Garnier de Naplouse had been in charge of the project, and though Maria had gone to school for business, not medicine, even she could tell through the scientific jargon that the tests had been far more extreme than what Clay had agreed to when he signed the waiver. The doctor’s notes made it clear he’d done so intentionally. It hadn’t been a gradual thing, either. Clay had been put through too much since the beginning, forced to endure treatments beyond what his brain and body could handle.

The worst thing was, Robert’s signature was on the paperwork outlining the procedure.

The memory of her confrontation with Robert was as clear in her mind’s eye as if it were yesterday.

_Furious, sweaty hands gripped her binder as she stood in front of Robert de Sable’s mahogany desk, having just slammed the copies of her findings before her boss. The only sounds were the ticking of an antique clock, the shuffling of papers, and her own labored breathing. It was late, long after most of the staff had left for home, but Robert had remained, working tirelessly to deal with the fallout of Subject 16. A fallout he’d caused by letting de Naplouse conduct his insane experiments on him. Maria had never felt so angry, betrayed, or horrified in her life._

_Clay Kaczmarek was dead because of Project Eden._

_Robert’s signature had killed a man._

_“How could you let this happen?” she managed to grind out, jaw muscles tight with rage._

_Robert stared down at the documents in his hands, horror and regret lining his face the further he read. He shuffled between the printed-out notes and the initial proposal, muttering to himself in French, which she’d only known him to do when something truly bothered him._

_Finally, he looked up at her, and she felt righteous fury compete with sympathy._

_“I had no idea.”_

_“No idea?” she snarled. “The proposal for de Naplouse’s experiments has your signature on it! How could you not know?!”_

_Robert averted his eyes, as if unable to bear the look of judgment she held. “The week you were gone was…hectic, to say the least. Patients needed to be approved, and Dr. de Naplouse—”_

_“Don’t you DARE refer to that_ thing _as a doctor!”_

_He shook his head. “You’re right. But he had given me several proposals for upcoming tests. With everything I had on my plate, and without you here to help stem the tide, I must have done little more than glance at it before signing.”_

_She bristled. “Are you trying to say this was my fault?”_

_He held up his hands defensively. “Of course not! But I hadn’t realized until now just how much you do here. You’ve kept things in order for me for so long, I hadn’t realized your absence would cause such an issue. If he had tried to put this on my desk with you around, I doubt it would have gotten anywhere but the garbage.”_

_Slowly, her temper cooled. Just a little. Because she didn’t doubt for a moment that Robert had been swamped. It had taken her over a year to get him to delegate some of his tasks to her so he could direct his full attention to things like the project proposals. The man had a bad habit of biting off more than he could chew._

_“Maria, I promise you, I had no idea I’d approved this. Dr. de Naplouse has been one of my top researchers for years, and while his methods have occasionally been unorthodox, he’s always put the patient first. I trusted him, and with the chaos during your holiday, I was unable to give Project Eden my full attention.” He got up from his desk and walked over to her, clasping her hands in his. It was only then that she noticed she was trembling, and he held her tightly in response. “I never should have let this happen. But I’m glad you’ve brought it to my attention. Subject 16 did not deserve this.”_

_“Clay,” she bit out, voice tight with unshed tears. She’d barely known the man, but somehow he’d made such an impact on her life. “His name was Clay.”_

_Nodding, he continued, “It shouldn’t have happened. I will take full responsibility. Dr. de Naplouse will be fired, and I will make a public statement explaining what happened. Then I will resign as head of Templar Industries.” A deep sadness overcame his face, and he released her hands to walk over to the window. He looked despairingly down at the city below. “King will certainly put an end to Project Eden. Lionheart Enterprises might even shut the whole company down. There will be massive layoffs; all good people who had nothing to do with this. All because of a single signature.”_

_It felt like someone had wrapped a fist around her heart. Robert was right; King would certainly shut down the whole company if the truth got out. And despite the glares and sniggers she received from her co-workers, she didn’t want them to lose their jobs._

_Project Eden could still help so many people. No one else was trying this method, and despite the setback, they’d made leaps and bounds with their genetic memory research._

_Tentatively, she chewed on her thumbnail. He’d said it wasn’t her fault, but the thought ate away at her, like an insect burrowing into an apple. Could she have prevented this? Robert didn’t trust anyone but her to handle his affairs, so he probably had been completely swamped while she was away. Guilt dropped into her belly like a stone. If she’d been there, instead of at home doubting herself, Clay might still be alive. Robert would have never approved de Naplouse’s request for more extreme testing, and the whole company wouldn’t risk being laid off._

_Taking a deep breath, Maria cautiously placed her hand on Robert’s shoulder. “You don’t need to resign, sir. We can’t hide what happened, but we can make sure the press understands it was fully de Naplouse’s fault. We can say he forged your signature, and it was you who discovered his notes. If you publicly fire him and make a statement about doubling down on safety regulations and making all future research more public, we can keep this whole thing from getting out of control.”_

_Turning away from the window, Robert graced Maria with a soft, appreciative smile. Reaching out, he gently brushed her cheek, the warmth of his fingers lingering on her skin. Her heart skipped a beat for the first time since their ill-fated rendezvous. “Maria,” he whispered, almost reverently, “what would I do without you?”_

She’d torn up her resignation letter that night and hadn’t taken more than a day off since. She’d taken on more and more of Robert’s tasks, everything he’d allow, to ensure what happened to Clay would never harm anyone else.

Now she was once again away for a week, and a single signature could make or break Templar Industries.

The irony left a bitter taste in her mouth.

“Maria?”

The voice snapped her out of her thoughts, though she couldn’t pinpoint whether it was Altair or Malik who had addressed her.

“Apologies. I was lost in thought.”

Malik nodded. “Understandable. But you never answered my question. It’s hard to put much faith in a project that caused a man to paint the walls with his own blood.”

Maria’s hand clenched around her glass, Clay’s face lingering in her thoughts. “What happened was a tragedy, one which I’ve worked hard to prevent from happening again.”

Altair frowned. “But certainly you agree it should never have happened in the first place?”

“Hindsight is a bitch, Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad. Beating yourself up over the past doesn’t solve anything. All you can do is work towards a better future.”

Her voice was even, expression smooth as glass, but her eyes couldn’t hide her turmoil from him. Altair knew de Sable was involved in the incident. Any claims of forged signatures and unauthorized experiments were utter lies spun by the Frenchman. Nothing happened in Templar Industries without de Sable’s say-so. And the man wasn’t afraid to get his, and others’ hands dirty to achieve his goals. He’d learned that firsthand.

The look in Maria’s eyes told him that she was not completely blind to her boss’ faults. But he’d wrapped her in his web so tightly, spun his lies so beautifully, that she willingly stayed at his side, even as he sucked her dry.

Altair would simply have to cut those threads. He wanted the feisty woman in his bed, but that flash of vulnerability had him wondering if cutting her free of the vile man might be its own reward.

Carefully, as if she were a skittish horse, he reached across the table and touched her hand. She jerked at the unexpected contact and stared at him.

“I’m sorry. This topic clearly troubles you. We won’t speak of Subject 16 anymore.”

Her gaze dropped to her half-empty plate, and she found her appetite was gone. “Clay,” she whispered. “His name was Clay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the sexiest chapter, but full of important plot and character! I'll try to make the next chapter steamier to make up for it.


	4. Calls and Kisses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took longer, but the length should more than make up for it.

Breakfast finished quickly, as Maria’s diminished appetite encouraged Altair and Malik not to loiter with their coffee, as they typically might. She accepted Malik’s offered arm, and the three quietly walked to Altair’s office, neither man particularly thrilled with the idea of having to explain to Maria that there was no way they were making any deals with Templar Industries. With the question of how far under de Sable’s thumb she was, they couldn’t exactly tell her why they’d rather slit their own throats than work with him. If she was really on his side, revealing what they knew about the man could send her running to warn her boss, and eight years of blood, sweat, and tears would be for nothing.

And even if she wasn’t complacent to his crimes, Altair had no doubt the fiery secretary wouldn’t hesitate to call de Sable to confront him over anything revealed, whether out of loyalty or outrage. For now, it was best to keep her in the dark and give her the run-around. And he already had the most delicious plan for distracting her.

When they were almost to the office, Altair gave Malik a meaningful look. Rolling his eyes, the man turned to Maria. “I’m afraid our talk will have to wait just a little while longer. I came here directly from the airport and am in desperate need of a shower and change of clothes.”

She looked him over skeptically. “You look perfectly fine to me, Mr. al-Sayf.”

“Thank you. I try. But I feel like I haven’t bathed in days, and I’d rather not go through the rest of my day feeling like I’m covered in grime, wearing yesterday’s clothes.” He gave her hand a brief kiss and had to fight down the urge to smirk as he caught Altair’s glare out of the corner of his eye. It was quite the surprise to see him so open with his feelings, even to him. His intrigue towards the woman rose by the minute. “I promise I’ll be back soon. Altair keeps one of the guest rooms ready for me as a courtesy.”

She sighed. “All right. I can certainly relate to that. But please don’t tarry; we were supposed to have this meeting yesterday, after all.” She gave a wry grin as Altair ushered her inside. “You’ve been causing me quite a bit of grief.”

He winked. “I told you I could be an asshole when I wanted to be.”

As the office door shut behind them, it struck Maria that perhaps Malik wasn’t exaggerating. Because he’d left her alone with Altair, who was looking her over appraisingly.

“So, what shall we do today?”

Immediately her guard was up. “You can do whatever you like, Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad. It’s your home. I intend to get my work done.”

“I can do whatever I like, can I? Does that include you?”

Maria pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance. “Seriously? Do you get your pick-up lines from teenage boys?”

“Perhaps that’s all the effort you deserve,” he said with a shrug.

Whirling around, she glared at him. “Excuse me?” She couldn’t understand why, but his comment stung her feminine pride. What the hell did that mean? She certainly didn’t want him flirting with her, but she doubted any woman wanted to hear they weren’t worth the brain cells it took to come up with a decent pick-up line.

His face was utterly stoic, like it had been carved out of stone. “If you can’t expend the effort to follow my rules, I’m hardly going to use my best lines on you.”

“And what rule have I broken?” she asked, crossing her arms in irritation.

Altair started taking slow, meticulous steps forward, inwardly smirking as he saw Maria unconsciously take a half-step back. “You’re to call me Altair, remember?”

She glared at him, taking another step back as he continued forward. “Fine, Altair. If it means so much to you, I’ll call you by your bloody surname.”

His advancement didn’t cease, eyes glittering in amusement as he allowed the corner of his mouth to quirk up. “There’s a good girl. Though, I’m surprised you were so offended; could it be you actually like it when I come on to you?”

Another step back, and Maria found her hip brushing the edge of his desk. Inwardly she cursed. She should know better than to let someone back her into a corner, physically or verbally. “I graduated secondary school years ago, Altair; I had hoped when I did, I’d be free of such wretched attempts at flirtation.”

With nowhere left for her to go, Altair took those last few steps he needed, gripping the edge of his desk and caging her in. “Fair enough, Maria. So, what should we do today? I doubt the meeting will take long, so we’ll have plenty of time to ourselves.”

Though the man was leaning in, completely disregarding her personal space, she refused to bend, keeping her back ramrod straight and looking him dead in the eye. “It’s Tuesday, which I’m quite certain is still a work day, even for you. Don’t you have a company to run?”

“I am working. I’m handling contract negotiations with Templar Industries. Something I’m quite certain will require most of my attention this week.”

She gave him an insincere smile. “Well, you could cut your work down substantially simply by signing the damn contract, you know?”

He returned her mocking smile with one of his own. “While that would certainly be more efficient, it would leave me with a partnership I have absolutely no interest in, without the consolation prize of you as my bedmate. Of course, you could always cut down my work for me by just agreeing to sleep with me.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be happening, so why don’t you just save us all the trouble and take the partnership seriously?”

“And miss out on watching you try to convince yourself that you don’t want me to pin you to the nearest wall and make you scream my name? Hardly.”

Her smile morphed into a scowl almost seamlessly. “You are utterly disgusting, you know that? I have no interest in you. At all. I’m not the kind of woman who enjoys being played with.”

“Perhaps that’s why you’re so tense; you don’t take the time to play.” Light as a moth’s wing, he traced the tips of his fingers over her exposed shoulder. “I’m all for making an encounter quick and dirty, but simply getting right down to business all the time can be so disappointing.”

Her cheeks burned scarlet. “That is not what I meant—”

She jerked as his hot hand loosely rested on the curve of her waist, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper. “No wonder you’re so unsatisfied. A woman like you should be worshiped, brought to the edge again and again before your lover even thinks of pursuing his own pleasure.”

Her own hands gripped the edge of the desk behind her for support. “And you think you’re that kind of man? Considering how you don’t seem to understand the words ‘no,’ ‘stop,’ or ‘back the fuck off,’ I doubt you’re that considerate a lover.”

“Words you have not said to me once. I’d certainly leave you be if I thought for even a second you actually meant it.” He leaned in close, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “Despite your barbed words, you’ve yet to actually push me away. You’re not as unaffected by me as you claim.”

His statement shocked her into silence. Pushing him away hadn’t even crossed her mind.

After a moment she recovered, though her voice was strained as she replied, “Simply because I haven’t pushed you away doesn’t mean I want you. Most men take the hint when I blatantly insult them.”

“I’m not most men.” Golden eyes glimmered in excitement. “I put more stock in actions than words. So many people say one thing, yet mean another. I’ve learned to look for what’s hidden underneath.”

“And what hidden meaning could my words possibly have?” she asked sarcastically.

“That you do want what I’m offering you, but are too proud to admit it. So you try to cut me down with a sharp tongue while secretly thrilling at my touch.”

“I do not!”

“Prove it, then. I’ll kiss you, once, on the mouth. No longer than one minute, but no shorter than thirty seconds. If you show no indication of enjoying it, I’ll back off for the next twenty-four hours. No innuendos, no flirtation, just business and small talk.”

That sounded too good to be true. “And if I do, by some miracle, enjoy it even a little?”

Pearly teeth flashed in a predatory grin, and she immediately regretted asking. “ _After_  you show you enjoy it, you’ll let me kiss you again. And again. And any other time I want to until midnight tonight.”

“Absolutely not. I’ve told you I’m not interested, and you should stop reading into things just to fuel your ego.”

“Then you doubt your own control?”

She bristled. “I know when I’m being baited, Altair. You won’t draw me into your ridiculous game so easily.”

“If anyone’s playing games, it’s you. I’ve made it very clear that I want you; you’re the one who claims to loathe me, yet responds to my touch so eagerly.”

“I do not!” Even to her own ears, she sounded petulant, which simply made her angrier.

“Then, as the Americans say, put your money where your mouth is. I’ll even sweeten the deal; if you don’t like it, you can skip dinner with me tonight.”

Maria fumed. She prided herself on staying in control during difficult situations, but Altair riled her up with little effort. Like now, for example; the sensible part of her brain told her not to take the bait, but her pride demanded she prove him wrong. Surely, she could hold out against one kiss? The idea of having the rest of the day, and even tomorrow morning, free of his flirtation was as appealing as a rack of spare ribs to a starving man.

And she didn’t back down from a challenge.

“Has anyone ever tol you you’re insufferable?”

“Malik. Constantly. And I don't listen to him, either. Because in the end, I always get what I want.”

She lifted her chin imperiously, and he found it suited her; in another life, she probably could have been a queen. A warrior queen, of course. He doubted she’d be content to just sit on a throne all day. He could easily see her on a horse, dressed in gleaming armor, charging into battle and cutting down invaders. The image was surprisingly hot.

“One kiss. Hands stay on my waist. Are we clear?” He’d get his kicks for sixty seconds, max, and then she could force him to focus on the contract. A kiss was a kiss; a mere contact of lips. Pleasant enough, but hardly something she’d lose control over.

He smirked, his scar twisting dangerously. “Transparently.”

Large hands gripped her waist tightly, as if uncertain she might run off. She stiffened beneath them, the heat radiating off his palms searing her flesh through the thin material of her blouse. Leaning in, he hovered over her lips, not yet touching, but letting his warm breath wash over her cheeks. The sensation made her shiver, and before she could ask what he was waiting for, his lips were on hers.

They were soft, far softer than she’d expected. Dry, but not chapped, the smooth line of his scar was a noticeable contrast to the light stubble over his upper lip, though not unpleasant. Slowly, they caressed her mouth, as if simply savoring how soft her lips were. The kiss was gentle and almost chaste, far from the possessive, sloppy press she’d been expecting. It was lovely, sending warmth down to her toes, but something in her wanted more.

Her eyes fluttered closed as his earlier words caressed her thoughts.  _A woman like you should be worshiped, brought to the edge again and again before your lover even thinks of pursuing his own pleasure._  The words, combined with the delightful feel of his lips stroking hers, piqued her curiosity, coaxing her to angle her head slightly, pressing her lips more firmly to his.

Altair groaned as he felt her respond. He’d only known her for a day, and yet it felt as if he’d been waiting years to kiss her. The lush sweetness of her lips reminded him of the plum he’d eaten, and he longed to taste the rest of her. He forced himself to keep his hands still, every instinct roaring for him to grab her by the back of the neck and pull her in closer, to bury his fingers in her pristine updo as he devoured her. Instead he ran the tip of his tongue along the seam of her mouth, asking permission to explore deeper. Hesitantly, she complied, parting those plush lips just enough for him to slip his tongue into her warm depths. He felt desire down to the marrow of his bones, and he pulled her in closer, pressing the length of her against him.

His warm tongue stroked along hers, and Maria barely registered the tiny moan that escaped her throat. He tasted like Turkish mocha, rich and dark and sweet. Soft fabric twisted beneath her fingers, and she belatedly realized she’d grabbed his lapels for support, the starch in her knees seemingly dissolved from the heat of the kiss. Electricity pulsed through every nerve ending in her body as his tongue stroked harder, teasing her with images of how that tongue might feel on  _other_  parts of her body…

She gave a minuet whimper of disappointment as he broke the kiss, and Altair smirked at her proudly, golden eyes bright and predatory. “I believe I won our little wager, Maria,” he whispered before surging forward to claim her lips again. And oh, claim was certainly the best word to describe the second kiss; his lips slanted over hers, tongue curling and stroking, and his hands dropped to her hips, grinding them against his own.

A deeper, huskier moan was muffled by his mouth, and Maria kissed him back just as hard. She was no shrinking virgin, but kissing had never been a particularly important factor when it came to sex. They were sweet, innocent signs of affection she preferred to associate with shy young lovers or old married couples. Altair kissed like he was fucking her, hot and dominating, teasing until she had no choice but to respond.

Eager for more of this passionate side of Maria, Altair slid his hands underneath her pert rear, hoisting her onto the desk and stepping between her thighs. She let out a small yelp, but otherwise didn’t protest, kissing back fiercely, hands burying themselves in his short brown hair. Pulling her hard against him, he rolled his hips, letting her feel the bulge in his trousers against her hot core, and a surge of pleasure shot through them both.

Altair was in heaven. Maria’s luscious curves fit against his hard body like she was made for him. He pulled away for air, nipping at her plump bottom lip before soothing the sting with his tongue. In retaliation, she sucked his own lip into her mouth before giving it a sharp bite. He growled, eyes practically molten as he leaned back and took her in. Pupils blown and eyes half-lidded, she looked utterly dazed from his kiss. He hadn’t been able to muss up that sensible hairstyle, but her pale cheeks were beautifully flushed and her pouting lips were pleasantly swollen from his attentions. As she gasped for breath, her full, round breasts heaved and brushed against him. Her skirt was hiked indecently high, exposing the perfect skin of her creamy thighs. Reverently, he stroked them, his hips giving a little jerk in response to her soft moan. They felt unbearably smooth, like a lily’s petals, the muscles beneath firm, and he wanted to kneel between them, to suck a bright red mark, too high up for anyone to see, but to serve as a reminder to Maria exactly who she’d given herself to. If this was how she looked after a kiss, how would she look after she’d been thoroughly fucked, taken to the highest peaks of pleasure over and over again? He fully intended to find out. Altair had gotten a taste of her, and he would not stop until he’d savored her sweetness and gotten his fill.

Smirking, he barely brushed his lips against hers, eyes triumphant and filled with desire. “Looks like I got what I wanted.”

That seemed to snap Maria out of her lustful daze, and she shoved him away. He stumbled back a few steps, surprised at the force behind it. Jumping off the desk, she barely took the time to pull down her skirt before dashing out of the office. He stared after her, smirk widening. The predator in him demanded that he chase after her, to pin her down and revel in the carnal delights her lush body could provide.

There was now no question that Maria enjoyed his touch. And he had all day to make her realize it. It would be a hunt of a different kind, and the prize would be just as sweet.

Malik strode into the office, a look of bewildered irritation on his face. “I just passed Maria in the hall, looking like the Devil himself might be after her. What did you say this time?” He glanced at the obvious tent in Altair’s trousers and rolled his eyes. “Am I going to need to start chaperoning you two?”

Running a hand through his hair, he gave his partner a smirk. “I think the meeting will once again have to be postponed. And now I’m the one in need of a shower. A cold one.”

XXX

Three hours later, Altair was showered and sitting in his office, going over a new resort location with Malik. Contrary to what he’d told Maria, he did have some work to do, though he’d already ensured that most of his schedule was free for the week. But Malik wouldn’t let him escape paperwork that easily, and it was probably for the best to give Maria some time to herself. Anticipation just made the game more fun, anyway.

Altair’s focus was broken by Right Said Fred’s “I’m Too Sexy,” and both men stared at his phone like it was some sort of poisonous snake. That song, which had been put on both their phones without their knowledge and apparently no feasible way to remove, only meant one thing.

Trouble. With a capital “E.”

Groaning, Altair picked up, bracing himself. “Ezio. Dare I ask why you’re calling?”

“Is that any way to greet your favorite cousin?”

“Last time you called me on a Tuesday, I ended the weekend in Cairo, hung over, no memory of anything since Thursday. Calls from you mean trouble.”

The Italian’s chuckle rumbled through the phone. “Trouble of the best kind, fratello mio! You know what this weekend is?”

Rolling his eyes, he said, voice full of exasperated affection, “Your birthday.”

“Exactly! And guess who’s hosting this year?”

Dread filled Altair’s stomach. “No.”

“You promised!”

“I did no such thing.”

“Ah, but you did, Altair. In Cairo. I even have it recorded.”

Altair rubbed his temples. He should have known something about that weekend would come back to bite him in the ass. “Are you certain I can’t talk you out of it?”

“I thought you liked my parties!”

“I like attending your parties, cousin. Hosting them is a completely different matter. I have enough going on as it is.”

He almost laughed as he watched Malik’s look of annoyance morph into horror. He silently agreed. He enjoyed the good life as much as the next billionaire bachelor, but Ezio’s parties were on a whole different level. Personally, he preferred attending to hosting in general; his house was his sanctuary, and he didn’t enjoy the idea of a mass of strangers invading it. Besides, if he needed to escape, it was easier to blend into the crowd and find a quiet place to relax. He didn’t have that luxury as the host, where his absence would be highly noticeable. Most of all, given the distraction Maria was causing him on top of his plans, he really didn’t have the time to throw the Auditore’s birthday blowout.

“You won’t have to lift a finger; I’ve already taken care of all the details. Catering, music, invites, decorators, even a clean-up crew! Your house is simply the venue.”

“How long have you been planning this?”

“About a month. I sent out the invitations today.”

He rubbed his temples, already feeling the headache his cousin could cause him without even trying. “You are infuriating.”

“I am, but you still love me. And you know I always get what I want. It will only be for one night, Altair. Everyone will be gone by sunrise the next day.”

Leaning his head back, Altair silently prayed to whatever gods might be listening that he’d have the patience to let his cousin live another year. He insistently ignored the niggling feeling that this was karma of some sort. “Fine, since apparently I have no say on what happens in my own home. But my house had better be free of unruly party guests by morning and absolutely spotless.”

“Excellent! I’ll send you all the details. Oh, by the way, it’s a costume party.”

“I’m not wearing a costume.”

“Yes you will, because you’re the host, and the host would never do something as embarrassing as show up to a party in his own home without the proper attire.” He could practically see Ezio’s sly smirk through the phone.

“Ugh, fine! I’ll wear a stupid costume. Assuming I don’t kill you when you get here.”

“Ciao, Altair! I’ll see you Saturday!”

Hanging up, Altair buried his face in his hands.

“Is he serious?” Malik asked, utterly frustrated.

“Of course he is. When it comes to parties, Ezio’s always serious.” Straightening up, he sighed. “Check your email; I’m sure your invitation has already arrived.”

Groaning, Malik did so. “Yup. Looks like you’re playing host this weekend. My condolences.” He gave him a considering look. “Perhaps it’s a good thing you’ve delayed our plans; I can’t imagine taking down Templar Industries and wrangling your cousin at the same time.”

Altair chuckled. “Told you Maria was a worthwhile distraction.”

XXX

Maria, meanwhile, was sitting on the floor behind an enormous grand piano on the second floor, as far from Altair’s office as she could get, doing everything possible to focus solely on the various emails that had piled up in her inbox. It was the only thing keeping her from beating herself up for losing her composure. But even work couldn’t keep her from berating herself. She’d been stupid for accepting his challenge. Memories of Clay had kept her from thinking clearly, otherwise not even her stung pride would have been enough to get her to take such a stupid bet. The man had coaxed hundreds of women into his bed; had she really thought he’d done it by talking to them?

She groaned, burying her face in her hands. Now that bastard could kiss her whenever he wanted until midnight. He won fair and square, and her sense of honor wouldn’t let her weasel her way out of it. Considering how it was half-past noon, that meant she had a little less than twelve hours to hide from him. Because while she wouldn’t go back on her word, if he couldn’t find her, he couldn’t kiss her. At least not until dinner. Maybe having Malik there would keep him at bay? Not that she could count on the one-armed man’s presence at all. If that jerk hadn’t decided he needed a shower, she wouldn’t have been left alone with Altair, and wouldn’t have been goaded into making a bet she couldn’t win. It was all his fault.

That was her story, and she was sticking to it.

“Hey.”

Maria shrieked as Altair appeared, crouched by her side as if he’d appeared out of thin air. She hadn’t even heard him approach!

“What are you doing here?”

He cocked his head to the side, looking like a curious eagle. “I was going to ask you the same thing. This cannot be a comfortable spot to work. Was the desk in your room unsatisfactory?”

“I simply wanted a change of scenery.”

He glanced around, then raised his eyebrow mockingly. “And under a piano is the change you needed?”

“Shut up,” she snapped, red spreading across her cheeks like blooming roses. “Don’t you have work to do?”

“I told you, you’re my work for this week,” he said. He was too close, his amber eyes fixed intently on her, scared lips quirked slightly in amusement.

She scowled and turned back to her computer, hoping her blush wasn’t as hot as it felt. “Well, unfortunately I don’t have the time to entertain you. And I work better when I don’t have someone hovering over me like some sort of perverted hawk, so you’d best find someone else to amuse you.”

“I’m fairly certain your boss wants you to put your focus on getting me to sign your contract.”

“Perhaps, but I’d rather not return to an inbox full of emails when I get back.”

“Well, those emails will have to wait. I’m taking you into the city for a shopping trip.”

Maria didn’t even look up from her laptop. “I’m quite certain you’ve bought me more than enough clothes.”

“Yes, but nothing quite suitable for my cousin’s birthday.”

That caught her attention, fingers pausing over the keyboard. “Beg pardon?”

“My cousin, Ezio Auditore? Billionaire, playboy, philanthropist? I’m certain you’ve heard of him.” He ran a hand through his hair, and for a moment, she could have sworn he looked apprehensive. “He’s strong-armed me into hosting his birthday party this Saturday. Furthermore, it’s a costume party. I wasn’t exactly planning for something like this when I had my servants get you clothes yesterday.”

“What makes you think I’m going?”

“It’ll be a who’s who of the rich and famous. A savvy businesswoman like you knows how perfect such parties are for networking.”

“That sure people will show up for a last-minute party?”

“I may be hosting, but it’s Ezio’s party; everyone who’s anyone will show up. People know to keep the weekend of his birthday open. Hell, people know to keep this  _month_  free. Last year he had three separate parties, each in a different country, all of them lasting three days. I almost ended up in a hospital in Paris for alcohol poisoning.”

“If I need a costume, fine, but I’m perfectly capable of picking something out for myself.”

“Given your choice of shoes last night, I’m doubtful.” He stood up, holding out a hand to assist her. “Come. Are you going to let your mixed feelings for me spoil your chance to see one of the world’s most amazing cities for yourself?”

She bit her lip in thought, though he could see the interest in her silver eyes, and Altair had to force himself not to kiss her again.  _There will be plenty of time for that later,_ he thought, smoothing his expression. For some reason, he really did want to show Maria his city, to treat her to an outfit that would show off how gorgeous she was. To show her how to have fun.

He was beginning to crack her professional shell, and he wanted to see more.

Hesitantly, she took his hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

“Well, then, Altair, lead the way.”

XXX

Dubai really was spectacular, even from the window of Altair’s blood-red Lamborghini. As they sped past boutiques, skyscrapers, and fountains, he told her of the city’s history, adventures he’d had, and so much more, she found it difficult to stay annoyed at him. He truly did love his home, and as he spoke, she found herself entranced by his ability to weave stories, even as he drove a little too recklessly for her taste. By the time they’d parked, a small smile had formed on her face, and she had almost forgotten how much grief he’d caused her.

Of course, it all came rushing back when, before she could even unbuckle her seatbelt, he leaned over and stole a quick kiss from her lips. It was little more than a peck, but she felt as if he’d struck her with a cattle prod, memories of their office encounter still fresh in her mind.

Smirking at her glare, Altair didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed. “I couldn’t help myself. It was so refreshing to see something other than a scowl in my presence, I simply had to taste your smile.”

Rolling her eyes, she quickly extracted herself from the car. She’d changed into a light, flowy sundress and white sandals, anticipating the weather would be far hotter than what she was used to. A pair of dark sunglasses completed the ensemble, making her look casual yet sexy. Altair certainly appreciated way the thin straps and open back gave him an unobstructed view of her smooth skin. “And yet your kiss stole the smile right from my face. If you wish to enjoy it in the future, perhaps you should learn the phrase ‘look but don’t touch.’”

Pointedly, he took her hand and looped it through his arm. He’d dressed down, too, donning a pair of jeans and a sleeveless hoodie that Maria certainly did not think showed off his tan, muscular arms nicely. “That’s no fun. I didn’t learn this evil language just to be inconvenienced by silly phrases.”

He expected her to be angry, but was pleasantly surprised when a small laugh escaped her. “Yes, English is a bit of a pain, isn’t it? In university, I took a couple courses in French, and I hadn’t realized just how absurd many of our grammar rules were.” She gave him a sideways glance as he led her down the bustling streets. “When did you learn, anyway? Your English is exceptionally good.”

“I was taught as a child, along with French, Italian, and a smattering of others. Al Mualim was quite insistent that language was an important business skill.”

The name sounded familiar to Maria, and she wracked her brain for what she’d read about Altair on the plane. “Al Mualim was the original head of Creed International, correct?”

“Yes, and the man who raised myself, Malik, and Kadar.” She noted there was no warmth in his voice. In fact, his face had turned hard as stone.

“Kadar?”

“Malik’s little brother.”

Her heart clenched. The brother who had died in the car accident. “Ah. So, all of you grew up together?”

“Yes. My father had been his vice-president. He died when I was no older than eleven, and Al Mualim adopted me. He took in Malik and Kadar a year later.”

“So, the three of you were close?”

He gave a snort. “Hardly. Malik and I despised each other. Anything he could do, I had to do better. Whenever I was praised, he strove to find a way to show me up. Al Mualim encouraged our rivalry, using it to decide which of us was worthy of being his successor.” Altair barely spared the various shops a glance, lost in memories of the past. “Kadar, however, worshiped me. Followed me around like a lost puppy, constantly asking that I teach him this or that. It annoyed me, but I encouraged it, simply because it angered Malik.” His voice became a little sadder. “That boy would follow me anywhere. Even into trouble.”

Against his will, Altair’s head filled with Kadar’s voice, memories of his smile flooding his psyche.

_Altair, Malik, and Kadar were in the garden, Rauf keeping an eye on the trio. It was a rare day when Al Mualim was away on business, and the bodyguard had insisted they get outside and enjoy the sunshine instead of being cooped up in the library studying. Kadar, no older than eight, had begged for them to play hide-and-seek with him. Malik and Altair, both twelve, had claimed they were too old for games, but had eventually relented after being exposed to the boy’s pleading eyes and Rauf’s stern encouragement._

_**“All right,”**_ _Malik grumbled, folding his arms irritably._ ** _“I’ll count to forty. No leaving the garden, though. Otherwise, we’ll be at this all day.”_ **

_Altair rolled his eyes but agreed, and Kadar grinned happily._

_**“Count in English, Malik,”**_   _Rauf called from his spot in the shade._   ** _“Al Mualim said you all needed the practice, and I don’t want to be yelled at for keeping you lot from your studies.”_ **

_The three sighed but relented, knowing the only way they could justify leisure time was if they incorporated something of their lessons into it. Al Mualim didn’t care for idle play or wasted time. Malik turned away, covering his eyes. “Fine,” he grumbled in English. “One, two, three, four…”_

_The two boys ran off, Altair towards the tall palm trees near the back corner of the large, lush garden. As he leapt onto a chair and propelled himself up to grab hold of the wide trunk of the tree, he grinned at his own cleverness. Shimmying up the trunk, he finally got to the perfect height to jump onto the high wall. Rauf’s lessons in parkour and climbing were paying off. Malik said not to leave the garden, but sitting on the edge of the wall, blocked by the trees was certainly within the rules of the game._

_“Altair!” a voice called from below, and the young man scowled, looking down at the boy who was spoiling his perfect hiding spot._

_“Go away, Kadar!” he whispered harshly. “Find your own spot!”_

_“But I want to hide with you!” he pleaded, stumbling over the unfamiliar words. “Malik always finds me too fast, and you’re so good at hiding.”_

_Rolling his eyes, Altair was about to tell him to get lost, but the idea of Malik getting so frustrated because he couldn’t find either of them was an amusing one. Besides, if Kadar was found first, knowing Malik, he’d probably pretend he couldn’t find him for hours, just to be annoying. Listening closely, he could hear him in the distance, having only gotten to twenty-five. English was still fairly new to all of them, so Altair was confident Kadar had enough time while his brother stumbled over the unfamiliar numbers._

**_“If you can climb up here, you can join me,”_  ** _he relented, switching into Arabic. There was no point conversing in a language if it took so long to be understood._

 _Kadar looked around._   ** _“How? Rauf hasn’t taught me to climb like you.”_ **

_With a sigh, he looked around, spotting an old statue leaning against the wall and a few vines that looked sturdy enough. Leaping to the ground and preening slightly under Kadar awestruck gasp at his perfect landing, he offered the boy his back._   ** _“Don’t wiggle around, and keep quiet. If you make us get caught, I’ll never play this stupid game with you again.”_ **

_Nodding silently, Kadar eagerly climbed on. Altair stood and adjusted the boy’s weight, making sure his legs were wrapped tightly around his waist. He needed his hands free if he wanted to make the climb. With a running start, he dashed up the statue, jumping up to grab hold of the vines._

_Unfortunately, he hadn’t considered Kadar’s additional weight when he decided the vines would be sturdy enough, and the green foliage snapped in his hand. Even worse, as he clamored for another handhold, Kadar’s grip slackened around his waist, throwing him even more off-balance. The two toppled to the ground, Kadar landing painfully beneath him, taking the full brunt of the fall._

_It wasn’t a very far drop, but the shock, mixed with Altair’s weight on top of him was too much for the boy, and Kadar let out a loud cry of pain. Altair spun around to find the boy curled on his side, a trickle of blood coming from his knee and elbow, hot tears streaming from his eyes. The distant counting ceased, and within seconds Malik and Rauf came crashing through the bushes._

_**“What happened?”**_   _Malik shouted._

 _Rauf knelt down to inspect the crying Kadar._ **_“It’s all right, child. Just a few bumps and scrapes. You’re tough enough to survive that.”_ **

_Malik gave Altair a death glare._   ** _“What. Happened?”_ **

_Altair glared back._ **_“Don’t blame me! He’s the one who insisted on hiding on the wall with me. It’s not my fault!”_ **

_**“It is exactly your fault! If he wanted to hide with you, you should have found a safer spot!”** _

_**“Enough!”**_   _Rauf roared, shocking them both into silence. Kadar’s crying had calmed to quiet sniffling under his gentle hands, allowing him to focus his full attention on the bickering boys._   ** _“Kadar should be fine, but I’m calling it a day. Both of you should go to your rooms and study. I’m going to get him cleaned up before Al Mualim gets home.”_ **

_Malik’s frown deepened._ **_“I’m coming with you.”_ **

_Rauf shook his head._   ** _“Go study, Malik. I’ll bring Kadar by once he’s cleaned up.”_ ** _He frowned at Altair._ ** _“I’m glad you’re practicing your parkour, but you need to know your limits.”_ **

_Altair glared and stomped off, trying hard not to look like he was sulking. It wasn’t his fault Kadar got hurt. He was too heavy, and he should have found his own hiding spot, anyway. Besides, he was the one who insisted on the stupid game._

_An hour later, Altair was sitting in his room, staring at the textbook in front of him. English was frustrating, and he wondered what kind of madman come up with the language. When a soft knock came from his door, he was more than grateful for the distraction. But when Kadar poked his head in, his scowl returned._

_The boy cowed under his glare._ ** _“I’m sorry,”_ ** _he whispered. **“I know you hate losing to big brother. I hadn’t meant to start crying.”**_

_Blinking in surprise, Altair actually felt a small pang of shame. The boy’s scrapes were wrapped in clean, white bandages that stood out against his dark skin. The tears were long gone, but there was still a hint of redness in his eyes. And he was still more worried about disappointing his hero._

_Running a hand through his short hair, Altair sighed._   ** _“It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have tried to make that climb.”_ **

_Kadar still didn’t look at him._   ** _“I understand if you don’t want to play with me again. Al Mualim says I’m too old for games, anyway.”_ **

_Shaking his head, Altair got up from his desk and mussed up the boy’s hair._ **_“You’re not too old, and I’ll still play with you. Maybe I can teach you some parkour skills of your own.”_ **

_Kadar looked up at him, eyes bright._   ** _“Really? Malik says I’m not ready for that!”_ **

_He winked._ **_“Well, who says Malik’s the expert? He’s just mad because I’m better at it than he is. It’s because he spends all his time studying instead of training. Stick with me, and you’ll be a pro in no time.”_ **

Altair was yanked out of his memories as Maria jerked him back, both of them collapsing to the sidewalk. Before he could scold her, he felt the  _woosh_  of a speeding car and the blare of a horn ruffle his short hair. He glanced around and realized he’d nearly stepped into traffic. It had only been Maria’s quick thinking that had kept him from becoming a bloody smear on the pavement.

She was gasping shallowly above him. “Sorry. I tried to warn you, but you didn’t hear me.”

Shaking his head, he cleared his mind of painful memories. “No, thank you. I should have been paying better attention.” A small crowd had begun to form around them, and he quickly pulled them both to their feet. “I owe you a life debt, Maria.”

She shrugged. “I find you insufferable, Altair, but I’m hardly going to let you die.”

His heart swelled a bit at her words. Perhaps she was just a decent person, or perhaps he was growing on her, but it was good to hear she wasn’t the sort to let him die. It gave him hope that she wasn’t completely under de Sable’s thrall.

A soft grin came to his lips, and he admired how Maria’s pale skin shone in the sunlight. Once again he took her arm, enjoying the way her thin fingers fit into his elbow. “Be that as it may, I appreciate it.”

Maria tried to ignore the fact that her heart was beating a million miles a minute, or the fact that his appreciative smile seemed to urge it on. Why couldn’t he look more like that all the time, with his amber eyes like warm honey and his lips soft and inviting? If he did, she wouldn’t be so opposed to his flirting. She cleared her throat awkwardly, but didn’t remove her hand from the crook of his arm. “Really, it’s nothing.” She glanced warily at the gathering crowd. Her sunglasses had fallen into the street, crushed by the racing car. She felt oddly vulnerable without them as people started taking pictures with their phones, undoubtedly recognizing the attractive billionaire at her side. “Shall we go? You may like being the center of attention, but I’d rather not have all eyes on me.”

Altair carefully looked both ways before leading them across the street, leaving most of the crowd behind. A few stragglers followed, so he pulled up his hood and lead Maria into the crowd, melting among the tourists and locals alike, effectively losing their stalkers. He was certain Rauf was nearby if needed, but he’d had years of practice escaping from the press. Hiding in plain sight was a specialty of his. Once he was sure it was once again safe to travel, he led Maria further downtown. “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. You’ve managed to captivate every man who’s seen you, all with an air of professionalism. Tell me, why are you nothing more than a secretary?”

She gave him a half-hearted glare. “Executive Assistant.”

He shrugged. “What’s the saying? ‘You say to-may-toe, I say to-mah-toe?’ After working for Templar Industries for five years, surely you’re overqualified for the position?”

Sighing, Maria glanced away. “Probably, but it’s not an easy position to advance from.”

“Then why not quit? A woman as smart as you could get a job doing anything she wanted.”

Blinking, she turned to him, surprised at how earnest he seemed. He was a constant thorn in her side, with his flirting and insults and general arrogant manner. Yet the way he was looking at her now made her feel like she was worth more than all the riches of King Midas. Like he saw her, not Robert de Sable’s lackey. Could it be he had more respect for her than she’d thought?

No one had looked at her like that since Clay.

Biting her lip, she decided there was no harm in confiding in him a little bit. “I’ve…made some mistakes in the past. Robert has a lot of faith in me, but I’m not exactly popular around the office. If I left, he’d be the only real reference I had, and I’m not sure he’s willing to let me go.” Her voice dropped, “At least, not of my own free will.”

She saw Altair frown out of the corner of her eye. “While I’ll admit you’re not the easiest woman to like at first, you can’t tell me your colleagues don’t respect you.”

A harsh laugh bubbled out of her throat. “’Easy’ is exactly why they don’t respect me.”

“Then you did sleep with de Sable.” Immediately, he saw her close herself off, but he was glad to finally get some confirmation to his suspicions. “I’m not judging you. Nor would I consider you easy, considering how you’ve resisted me for far longer than any other straight woman I’ve met. I simply don’t understand how someone like you could fall for a man like that.”

Yanking her hand from his arm, she put at least a foot of distance between them. “We all make mistakes when we’re young and foolish, Altair. My mistake just happened to have long-term consequences.”

He was tempted to pull her back to him, but decided it was better to grant her space. “You didn’t get pregnant, did you?” If she had a child with de Sable, that would throw a massive wrench into his plans. He was not willing to hurt a child, even indirectly, just for revenge.

“What? No!” she looked utterly horrified at the idea. “God, that would have made things even worse. No, it simply warped my reputation into the office slut, even though it was only a single, drunken mistake.”

Altair let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Good. No children would be hurt when he destroyed his nemesis. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry. I simply wish to understand you better. You’re loyal to him, but I’ve yet to see any reason for it.”

“You’ve yet to see any reason why I shouldn’t be.”

He gave her a level stare, eyes hard and dangerous. “Believe me, Maria; I’ve seen plenty of reasons. I’m not a particularly good man, but de Sable makes me look like an angel.” Shaking his head, he stopped in front of an elegantly decorated shop. “But that’s neither here nor there. You need a costume, and I need to distract myself from kissing you.”

Frown deepening, she followed him inside. Something had happened between him and Robert. His thinly-veiled insults and references made that clear, and they put her on edge. She knew Robert wasn’t perfect. She’d been realizing that over the past year, bit by bit. There were things he did, things even before Clay, that had seemed off, but he’d always had some sort of answer to her questions, the perfect response to assuage her concerns. Besides, there was too much at stake to allow her doubts to rule her. Too many people were counting on him, and he was counting on her. So she’d stuck with Templar Industries, working hard to keep the company going, protecting her boss however she could.

But Altair knew something, and her gut told her this time Robert wouldn’t be able to give her a perfect response.

She knew Robert wasn’t perfect. But she was beginning to wonder what, exactly, he was.

XXX

They’d been in Mystique Costumes for over two hours, and both were running out of patience. Agreeing on an outfit was quickly becoming impossible, as both seemed intent on finding fault in the other’s picks.

“If you think I’m showing up as a naughty nun, you’re clearly brain-damaged.”

Altair held up a Playboy Bunny costume. “Then what about this? Cliché, I know, but you’ve rejected the sexy devil, Victoria’s Secret Angel, and frisky nurse, among others.”

Maria practically slapped the hanger out of his hand. “Why should I dress up as a sexy anything? You said this would be a networking opportunity; why would I want to meet potential clients dressed like a hooker?”

He crossed his arms, annoyance clear on his face. “You have to dress up as something sexy. You say you don’t want to be the center of attention? Well, at a party where every woman will be wearing the bare minimum of clothes, you’ll certainly stand out like a sore thumb.”

“At least I’ll be a  _clothed_  sore thumb.”

“Yes, but you’re going to be on my arm all night. Therefore, whatever you wear will reflect on me. And I don’t accept anything less than the best.”

“Who says I’ll be on your arm? Perhaps I’ll ask Malik to be my date.”

Jealousy welled up in him at the thought of her on his COO’s arm. He’d be infuriatingly smug all night, and Maria would wear something unfathomably sexy just to spite him. And it was all too easy to imagine Malik taking the lovely secretary to some secluded spot and showing her that losing his arm hadn’t meant he’d lost his _touch_ , as it were. He forced down the feeling before he could leave the shop to kill his best friend over an imagined rendezvous. “You’re welcome to think that, but you’ll see things my way. Besides, I’m the one paying for the costume; the least you could do is take my suggestions.”

“I’m not some doll for you to dress up!” Maria snarled, aggressively poking him in the chest.

Altair was about to snap back when the poor, beleaguered salesgirl finally chimed in, English stilted but understandable, “Perhaps I could find something you both like?” Altair had asked for a private room, and while she’d been happy to help the couple at first, the girl was suddenly wishing she’d just stayed behind the cash register today.

Altair seemed to consider it for a moment. “Maybe a third party would be better suited to this.”

Taking a calming breath, Maria gave her a forced smile. “Yes, please. If you have any recommendations, I’d love to see them.”

The woman rushed out, evidently anxious to put an end to the duo’s squabbling, leaving them alone in the private room.

With a huff, Maria strolled over to the display of jewelry near the full-length mirror, intent on enjoying a rare moment of silence with her enigmatic host. She’d known the man for barely more than 24 hours, yet she’d already told him far more about herself than she felt comfortable with. And yet every time she thought she had Altair figured out, she caught a glimpse of something that completely threw her off course. What she’d known before her flight was that he was a highly respected, intelligent man who balanced ruthlessness with charity, as likely to crush his competitors as build an orphanage. Meeting him, though, he was even more infuriatingly complex than she’d assumed. One moment he was an arrogant playboy, the next he was a savvy businessman. He could go from stoic to smirking at the drop of a hat. Most of the time he was insufferable and selfish, but occasionally he did or said something that proved he could be equally insightful and considerate. Then, he’d say something perverted or insensitive, and they’d be right back to arguing. She felt like a pinball, being flicked around from one emotional extreme to another. He confounded her, and she needed time to analyze the situation, to figure out who he was and how to deal with him. So, she chose to ignore him in favor of admiring the shop’s various accessories.

Unfortunately, Altair was not a man who liked being ignored. At least, not when it came to Maria.

“You said de Sable bought you a dress for a gala. Did he invite you along to those sort of things often? I’m sure he was more than willing to have such a beautiful woman on his arm to fawn over him.”

Pursing her lips, she remained silent, deciding that studying a nearby display of necklaces was a better use of her time. It hadn’t escaped her notice that Robert was his go-to topic when he wanted to rile her up. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction this time.

Altair chuckled under his breath. If this was her game, he’d happily play along. It was so fun getting a reaction out of her. Did she even realize it was her own fault that he enjoyed provoking her? Really, the more she defied him, the more he was driven to claim her.

“I mean, you two did sleep together. Perhaps he was hoping for another opportunity to get into your pants.”

That jibe was easy to let roll off her back. She’d heard it plenty of times over the years around the office, whispered conversations that suddenly stopped once she’d made her presence clear. Instead, she held up a pair of delicate gold earrings, studying her reflection in the mirror.

“Let me guess how it all went down; you, his young and naive secretary, fell madly in love with her boss. He, being amoral scum, took advantage of those feelings to get you into bed. Of course, he was utterly useless in the sack, and your feelings disappeared overnight, leaving you so disillusioned by his performance you haven’t let another man even touch you until I came along. Am I close?”

When she still didn’t answer, Altair strode up behind her, lightly trailing his fingers across her exposed back and shoulders. Maria suppressed a shiver at the sensation. He was like a schoolboy pulling at her pigtails, intent on getting a reaction. Such childishness was best ignored, even if it did make her toes curl.

Leaning down, he delicately kissed the back of her neck, grateful for her practical updo exposing the sensual tendons. “Tell me, is it some misplaced sense of duty towards de Sable that makes you reject me? I highly doubt he’ll care if we sleep together. His only concern is the contract, isn’t it?”

Maria did her best to keep her face blank, even as she watched him touch her in the mirror. If he had any idea how true that was, she’d probably never hear the end of it. And his mouth on her skin was even more distracting than his fingers. Damn the heat, she should have worn a sweater so she wouldn’t have to feel those delicious lips dance across her shoulder.

Lips brushing her ear, he whispered. “I could fuck you in front of him, right on his desk, and I doubt he’d so much as bat an eyelash so long as I’d signed his contract first.” Her cheeks burned at the image, and Altair’s eyes darkened with lust, stepping even closer until his chest brushed her back every time he inhaled her sweet scent. “Of course, I’d much rather take you in my bedroom. Far more comfortable. Not that I’m opposed to just bending you over the nearest surface and showing you what a real man feels like.”

His constant barrage of perverse images and insults finally broke her silence. “‘A real man,’ huh? Considering how your lovers tend to stay no longer than a week, perhaps you’re the one with performance issues.”

She caught a flash of anger cross his face before he masked it with a smirk, and she mentally gave herself a pat on the back. “I go through lovers quickly because they bore me. But I can assure you, if you asked any of them, they’d tell you my skills more than satisfied. Can de Sable say the same?” His hands lightly rested on her waist, but she felt his fingers like they were cattle prods, sending electricity up and down her lithe form.

She shrugged, looking away from the mirror, but not moving. Doing so felt too much like a retreat to her, and she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “He doesn’t socialize with women much. As for his performance, considering how I was drunk at the time, I don’t really remember.”

The smug expression fell from his face so quickly for a second she wondered if it had even been there in the first place. “Drunk? He slept with you while you were intoxicated?”

Eyebrows raising at the sharpness in his tone, she looked back at his reflection. His eyes were hard as stone, two glittering jewels that burned like embers. It made her feel oddly defensive. “Are you saying you’ve never made a drunken mistake?”

“I’ve made plenty of mistakes, both drunk and sober. But I don’t sleep with drunk women. Anyone who does is lower than pig shit.”

And there it was again, that hint that he wasn’t as horrible as he led her to believe. Because he sounded so earnest about it. It was honestly the bare minimum of what a decent human being was, to be honest, but considering some of the men she’d had the displeasure of meeting, it was more than she’d come to expect from men with too much money and power at their disposal.

“Was Robert drunk when he took you to bed?”

Blinking, she glanced at him over her shoulder.

“I,” she thought back to the holiday party. Robert had certainly had a wineglass in his hand for most of the evening, but she couldn’t really recall how often he’d drunk from it, or had it refilled. To be honest, she hadn’t been paying attention to such a trivial detail. Anyway, the night was such a blur, and she’d certainly had more than a few cocktails herself. At least, she thought she had. She wasn’t a lightweight, but he’d handed her at least a couple drinks—

Shaking her head, she wasn’t quite sure she wanted to think about it. All she knew is they’d both woken up the next morning naked in his office, and her hangover had made her so nauseous she’d almost asked him to bring her to the hospital.

She forced herself to put down the delicate pair of earrings she’d been holding, not trusting herself not to accidentally crush them in her palm. “It was the annual holiday party. Everyone was drinking.”

His eyes narrowed further. “That doesn’t answer my question.” His tone surprised her. He seemed…angry. Like he was barely restraining the urge to fly to London and kill Robert for the mere possibility that he’d taken advantage of her.

It was oddly noble of him, but she didn’t need a knight in shining armor. She could take care of herself.

Luckily, Altair was dissuaded from prying further by the salesgirl’s return. He stepped back, and Maria released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. The girl held out a garment bag, apparently quite pleased with herself. “This should look lovely on you,” she said, smiling. “It just came in.”

Glad for the excuse to retreat into the dressing room, she took the offered costume and ducked behind the curtain.

Meanwhile, Altair was quietly seething as he sat down in the dressing room chair. There was plenty about de Sable he hated, but he found that the possibility that he’d taken advantage of Maria made his blood boil. And if it had been four years since the event, shouldn’t the disdain she was shown around the office have died down? The woman was clearly the sort who held herself to high standards, and probably had shunned any relationships for the sake of not adding fuel to the fire. So why was she still isolated from her peers? Was de Sable feeding the rumor mill behind her back, making her the office pariah to keep her under his control?

He had to get her away from him. He was as dangerous as nuclear waste, and Maria was better off without him. Somehow, he’d make her see that.

Those thoughts came to a screeching halt, as did his heart, as the feisty secretary finally stepped through the curtain.

Resplendent. Glamourous. Sexy. A million words could have described how Maria looked in the belly dancer costume. Emerald green silk and chiffon clung to her like a second skin, shimmering under the bright lights. The top exposed her midriff and pushed her full chest up enticingly, but not obscenely. Sheer, billowy sleeves gave the illusion of modesty, even as they exposed her shoulders and collarbone. Delicate gold embroidery and twinkling coins gave the garment plenty of flair, catching the light and jingling enticingly. The skirt was long and moved like liquid mercury, the slits along the sides giving him a tantalizing view of her long, gorgeous limbs. Gold bangles around her wrists and ankles completed the ensemble, and he found himself completely unable to look away. Not that he wanted to. He had every intention of burning this image into his memory. Perhaps he’d draw it later and hang it above his bed so he could look at it every day.

Maria stared at herself in the mirror. The costume was suggestive, but not uncomfortably so. While it wasn’t something she would have picked for herself, now that it was on, she couldn’t help but admire how good she looked. Unlike the other costumes, she didn’t feel objectified. Instead, she felt sexy. She looked like she could be one of the sultan’s concubines, a woman who could entice and seduce with little more than a smile. She turned to gage Altair’s reaction, and found herself smiling. His mouth hung open, and he was staring at her like she was an oasis after a long journey in the desert; desirable, but almost tentative, like he wasn’t sure she wasn’t a mirage.

Seeing him look at her like that made her feel more than sexy. She felt powerful.

“We just got it in this week,” the salesgirl said proudly, observing the two. She knew she’d made a sale. They’d been arguing almost non-stop since they’d walked in, and this was the first time she’d seen them both silent.

Sauntering forward, Maria enjoyed the way the light fabric slid sensually along her legs. “Well, Altair? What do you think? It’s a bit less modest than I’d prefer, but I like the color.”

Altair finally came back to his senses. “You look amazing,” he said sincerely. “Any man would be proud to be on your arm.”

Her smile widened at his choice of words, and Altair found himself admiring how it made her silver eyes light up, a little dimple forming on her cheek. He didn’t even care that in an outfit like that, the already stunning woman would likely have every man, and probably a few women, drooling over her. She looked elegant, sexy, and confident all at once.

Everything he wanted in a woman. Everything he was beginning to see Maria truly was.

He nodded to the salesgirl. “We’ll take it.” Maria smiled in agreement.

Pleased that she’d finally made the pair happy, the girl rushed out to put together the appropriate paperwork and wrapping materials.

Alone again, Altair stood and slowly walked towards his companion, admiring how the vibrant green complimented her pale skin. Delicately, he ran his fingers across her exposed stomach, relishing how smooth her skin was. A few freckles dotted her midriff, and he idly wondered if she had any others hidden from view. He smirked at how she shivered under his touch. Her mouth may deny their mutual attraction, but her body couldn’t. Bowing slightly, he kissed her shoulder. “You look stunning, Maria. Truly,” he said, reverently.

A thrill went down her back and settled warmly between her legs. Something about the costume, and Altair’s response to it, set her skin aflame. She didn’t feel like he was ogling her; he was genuinely admiring her. Worshiping her, even. It was a heady feeling.

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to pull away, but not without sparing him a small smile. “And what will you be wearing, Altair? After all, if you’re to be on  _my_  arm, I can’t have you looking any less than your best.”

He grinned mischievously, and for once she didn’t find it annoying. It was charming, in its own way, and spoke of a cleverness that she appreciated.

“After seeing this, I can guarantee I will have the perfect attire to match yours.”  _Something intimidating,_  he decided.  _With lots of weapons. Maybe a sword._  Because the more he stared at Maria, the more obvious it became that he’d have to fight off men clamoring to get her attention.

XXX

Purchase neatly wrapped up and stored in his car, Altair decided there was no reason to return home yet. It wasn’t even five, and there was still so much to show his lovely guest. The heat was especially intense after the air conditioning of the costume shop, but he hardly noticed as he led her towards Burj Park.

“Promise to pay attention, this time?” Maria teased, wiping sweat off her brow. It was certainly much hotter there than in England. “I can’t always be around to save you.”

“Why not?” he asked. “If I had you around, I wouldn’t need Rauf.”

“Rauf?”

“He’s the head of my security, and often acts as my bodyguard. He practically raised me.”

“Really? What about Al Mualim? He’s the one who adopted you, right?”

Altair’s expression darkened as they approached the entrance. “He adopted us, but to call him a father would be a blatant falsehood. He put clothes on our back and a roof over our heads, but there was no love, and any affection was calculated.”

Maria bit her lip. Altair was always so confident and relaxed, like a tiger at lounging in the sun, yet at the mention of Al Mualim he was immediately on edge. It was concerning, to say the least. “Perhaps he simply didn’t know how to show it? He must have cared somewhat if he adopted you.”

“Al Mualim didn’t believe in emotional attachments. He adopted us because he needed someone to take over the company once he was gone, and he’d rather have someone molded in his image than leave things to chance. He told us as much.” Altair neglected to mention that he’d taken them in to ensure whomever took over would be completely loyal to him, brainwashed to the point where they’d be content to be used as puppets, even after he’d formally “retired.”

He was glad he and Malik had gotten rid of the cruel bastard.

Unconsciously, he gripped Maria’s hand tighter. “He was a brilliant businessman, but a perfectionist to the core. I told you, he encouraged mine and Malik’s rivalry. He wanted to make sure he was getting the smartest, most ruthless heir he could create.”

“What about Kadar?” she asked quietly, absently rubbing his knuckles soothingly with her thumb. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer, but she felt like a giant puzzle piece had finally been dropped into her lap.

“Kadar he mostly ignored. Malik was an intellectual genius, and like me, their parents had been employees of Creed International. The brothers were close, and Al Mualim couldn’t adopt just Malik without risking resentment and resistance. So, he took them both, but basically left Kadar to be raised by the staff.” Maria watched the way the muscles in his neck strained in anger. “He couldn’t even be bothered to show up to Kadar’s funeral.”

She felt a sudden pang of empathy for the arrogant billionaire. She was one of the few that had attended Clay’s funeral. She’d been horrified to find he’d had few close friends, and not even his father had bothered to show up, their relationship having been very strained. It made her sad that Kadar’s funeral might have been similar.

Carefully, she pulled her hand from his grip, and when he turned to question her, he found himself pulled into a hug. He stared at her in surprise before hesitantly returning it. He was not overly familiar with being embraced, at least not when sex wasn’t involved. Al Mualim had certainly never bothered. Malik wasn’t really the affectionate sort, and Rauf preferred a hearty slap on the back or mussing up his hair. Really, after his father’s death, the only people who’d hugged him were Kadar and Ezio. But Maria’s embrace was warm, gentle, and made his heart skip a beat.

After a few moments she pulled away, though she noticed Altair seemed reluctant to let her go. Clearing her threat, she decided it was a good idea to steer the conversation towards happier subjects. “Tell me about Ezio. Are you two close?”

The mention of his cousin seemed to clear up his mood slightly as they once again strolled through the massive flower garden. “Only recently. He’s my cousin on my mother’s side. She died in childbirth, and my father wasn’t close to her family, so I only had occasional contact with him. After I was adopted, we were cut off completely. Al Mualim didn’t want me ‘distracted by the past,’ as he put it. After Kadar died I reached out to him.” His lips quirked up into a wry smile. “He’s been both a blessing and a massive pain in my ass ever since.”

Chuckling, Maria stiffened slightly as his arm wrapped around her waist, but soon relaxed. His hand was too warm, but she found she didn’t mind the sensation of being held. And she had hugged him first, after all.

“Why is he having a costume party? It’s June.”

“Because my cousin can never do anything normally. My guess is he wanted an excuse to dress up in some elaborate getup and have everyone’s eyes on him.”

“You two truly are related.”

“Our family has been blessed with charisma and painfully good looks. It’s a burden I must shoulder with dignity.”

“Yes, so dignified that when I ignore you, you insist on provoking me,” she quipped, though there wasn’t much heat behind it. Partially because it was getting harder to stay mad at him, but also because she was starting to feel the tell-tale twinge of a headache. She was no stranger to those, and always had emergency Advil in her purse for such occasions. Instinctually she reached for it, only to remember she’d left it on her bed, as she’d been so frazzled by the idea of spending the day alone with Altair.

His voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “I can’t help myself. Most women throw themselves at me, while you insist on playing hard to get.”

“I’m not playing.”

“This morning’s kisses say differently.”

“Shut the hell up. I’m here to do my job, not fool around with arrogant billionaires.”

“I don’t see why you can’t do both.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. Tell me, Altair, if women constantly throw themselves at you, why are you so fixated on me?”

“Those women fulfilled a mutual physical need. You actually interest me. When we met, I completely misread you and paid for it. Now I want to know everything. Your fire, your passion, and your unfailing ability to beguile me keeps me coming back for more.”

They came to a stop, and Altair pointed across the water. “Here we are. I thought this might interest you. That’s the Burj Khalifa. It’s the tallest building in the world. Creed International helped fund its creation, and Malik was actually one of the architects who designed it.”

“It’s incredible!” she said in wonder, headache momentarily forgotten. “We don’t have anything like this in London.”

“I’ve always had a fondness of heights. Something about looking down on the city makes any troubles seem so small. As a child, I was always climbing fences, rocks, and when Rauf started teaching me parkour, I could climb up the side of buildings. I think if I hadn’t taken over the company, I’d have become a professional rock climber or something.” He turned to her, eyes bright with excitement. It was just like when they’d talked about horseback riding last night. “Have you ever been to New York? It’s not as big as the Burj Khalifa, but the view at the top of the Empire State Building is quite something.”

“Once, with Robert for a conference. I went to the observation deck, but it was too crowded with tourists to really appreciate the view.”

“I’ll get us a private viewing in the Burj Khalifa’s observation deck. You simply have to see the city at night. It’s absolutely stunning, especially the fountain.” He sounded like a little boy, excited to show off his favorite stuffed animal. It was rather endearing, really.

“I’m not sure I’ll have time.”

“You’ll have time. I’ll make sure of it. I won’t let you leave Dubai until you do.”

Her smile melted. His comment may have been well-intentioned, but to her, it only served as a reminder that she was, in fact, stuck in Dubai against her will. No amount of expensive clothes or beautiful views was going to change that.

Remembering her predicament made her headache come back with a vengeance. Rubbing her temples, she turned towards the exit. “We should get back to your mansion. It’s almost time for dinner.”

Altair frowned at her sudden mood change. He thought they were finally making progress, yet she shut herself up again. She was like a tortoise, occasionally peeking out of her shell, but pulling her head back into her armor at the slightest threat. It was frustrating, but he’d coax her out eventually.

Maria only made it a few steps before she found herself spun around and pulled against his hot body. “Fine,” he said. “But we’re not going anywhere until I get a kiss. I haven’t kissed you since we got out of the car.”

She glared. “You kissed my neck while we were shopping. Which, I might add, was not part of our agreement.”

“I never specified that I only got to kiss you on the mouth,” he said smugly.

Cheeks flushing, she fought the urge to grind her heel into his foot. They were in public, and he was her ride back to the mansion. Besides, her head was starting to throb, crippling her desire to argue. With a huff, she said, “Just get it over with.”

“You really are all business. You need to learn to enjoy life, Maria.” Leaning in, he halted just before his mouth could make contact. “Savor these moments. Life is too short to rush things.”

“If life is so short, getting things done in a quick and orderly fashion is essential so as to not waste time,” she breathed back, mouth going dry. Damn it, she’d forgotten what his proximity could do to her. There was just something about being near him, a sort of awareness that put her senses into overdrive. Every muscle pressed against her, and his body heat burned like a furnace. She breathed in his cologne, and the fresh scent was starting to make her feel a bit lightheaded.

Forgoing her mouth, Altair trailed a line of kisses to her ear. “Maybe, but life is inherently chaotic. You can try to give it order, to schedule every moment of every day, but you need to learn to adapt, to improvise. Be a little more _flexible_.” He relished Maria’s gasp as he latched his lips around her earlobe, giving it a sharp suck. “If one is too rigid, opportunities might pass them by, and what a tragedy that would be.”

 _Double-damn,_  she thought, head tilting slightly as he trailed open-mouthed kisses down her neck.  _Why is it so hard to resist him?_  Sharp nips and soothing licks contrasted sensually against her delicate throat, and a surge of heat pooled between her legs. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and every inch of her was beginning to feel far too hot. His hands weren’t staying idle, either, trailing down her back and hotly squeezing her rear. A whimper escaped her throat, and she could feel his pleased smirk against her skin.

Just as it seemed the amorous Arab was about to take things further, his phone rang, Rise Against’s “Savior” effectively ruining the mood. Irritably, he pulled away from the gorgeous woman and answered, “This had better be good, Malik.”

**“It is. I got a message from our contact. He says that de Sable got out of a meeting with some military people this afternoon, looking far too pleased with himself. If he gets military funding, he might actually be able to restart Project Eden.”**

Putting some distance between himself and Maria, Altair switched into Arabic.  **“Fuck. We need to start bringing him down. Leak some of those financial reports our friend uncovered. That should put a dent in his plans. The stockholders won’t be happy when they see he’s been siphoning off his employees’ retirement funds for the project.”**

**“Done. But we have another problem.”**

Swiping his hand over his face in frustration, he growled,  **“What now?”**

 **“I tried to set up a meeting between you and King for after Maria returned to London. But apparently, his schedule is booked solid for the next month. I tried to explain to his receptionist that it was an emergency, but he was less than receptive.”**  He snarled,  **“Apparently, he was too busy to talk to me, but I’d bet my right arm he’s just being obstinate because it’s us.”**

Altair scowled. King was a stubborn man, and there was still lingering bad blood between Lionheart Enterprises and Creed International from the days of Al Mualim. The old bastard was still making his life difficult, even from beyond the grave.

**“We need to find a way to meet with him. In-person if possible so he can’t brush us off.”**

Clenching his fists, he noticed Maria had sat down on a nearby bench, eyes glazed over slightly as she shielded herself from the sun. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to appear calm. She couldn’t understand him, but he didn’t trust that she wouldn’t suspect something if he let his mask slip. Then, an idea hit him, and a small, devious smile crept onto his face.

**“Malik, check the RSVP list for Ezio’s party.”**

**“Why?”**

**“Just do it.”**

His partner grumbled about keeping his head in the game as the faint sound of the keyboard floated through the receiver. There was a moment of silence before Malik replied,  **“Oh, that sly bastard.”**

**“King knows better than to miss this party. The Auditores have been one of his biggest clients for years. He’ll be here, and there’s no way he can avoid me in my own home. He’ll hear me out, even if I have to drag him into a closet. I’m not letting eight years of hard work go to waste because of an old grudge with a dead man.”**

**“All for the sake of a grudge with a very much alive man.”**

**“Are you complaining?”**

**“Of course not. I’ll make sure we’ve got all the documents ready for Saturday. King won’t take our word alone.”**

**“Excellent. I’ll be home with Maria soon. We’ll talk more after dinner.”** With that he hung up and turned back to his guest. “Sorry about that. A meeting I’d planned fell through, but we managed to reschedule.”

Maria looked at him dubiously. “You seemed upset.”

Smiling, he took her arm, pulling her to her feet. “Yes, but I adapted, and everything has turned out for the better. It’s an important skill if you want to survive in this chaotic business.”

Considering his words for a moment, she nodded. “You certainly have a taste for chaos, don’t you Altair?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Better to an agent of chaos than imprisoned by order.”

“Imprisoned, hmm? I know the feeling,” she shot back weakly.

Instead of responding, Altair ducked down and kissed her right on the mouth, stilling her argument. Nipping her lips teasingly, she gasped in surprise, and he gladly delved his tongue into her mouth. Allah, he never tired of kissing her. Her lips were just so soft, and the power to make her pliant beneath him was addicting. If he only had until midnight, he was determined to enjoy the spoils of his victory every chance he had. Though, he was even more determined to make it so she’d crave his touch long after their deal was over. Tilting her chin to get a better angle, he wondered what those lips would feel like around his cock. It was intense, picturing her on her knees, sucking him off. Of course, after she finished he’d be happy to return the favor. If her mouth tasted this sweet, he could only imagine what her netherlips would taste like. He groaned as the thought shot right to his groin, and he forced himself to pull away before he could do something rash. Gasping for air, he took a moment to admire Maria’s pretty blush. However, he found himself frowning as he noticed her skin was instead quite pale. Paler than usual, even.

Maria felt far too hot, and her head was spinning. It felt like the bones in her legs had melted, and her heart was beating a mile a minute. She blinked, and Altair’s face blurred.

 _Oh dear,_  she thought, legs giving out. As her vision darkened, she was suddenly very happy he’d been holding her.

Altair nearly cried out in shock as his companion collapsed in his arms, only his years of strength training and quick reflexes keeping him from dropping her as she turned into dead weight.

In a flash, Rauf was at his side. Before he could even ask the big man what was wrong, he was checking Maria over,  _tsking_  to himself as he pressed a palm to her sweaty skin. “We need to get her into the car, sir,” he said solemnly but urgently. “She’s experiencing heat exhaustion. Probably dehydration, too. It’s not too bad, but if we don’t get her out of the heat quickly, it could escalate into heat stroke and cook her brain.”

“Shit!” Altair snarled, lifting the unconscious woman into his arms. Logically, he knew he should hand her over to Rauf, but he was too busy combating a sense of guilt. He’d lived in Dubai his whole life; how had he not recognized the signs in his companion?

As fast as they could, the two Arabs wove through the crowds to the car, Altair swearing softly to himself the whole time as people gave them strange looks. When they finally reached his Lamborghini, he realized he couldn’t hold Maria and unlock the car at the same time. With great reluctance, he handed her over to Rauf, fumbling for his keys once she was safely in his bodyguard’s arms. The seconds it took to unlock the vehicle and get her in the passenger seat seemed to take hours, his mind frantically reminding him of all the ways heat exhaustion and heat stroke could kill someone. Altair barely waited for Rauf to buckle her in before sliding over the hood of the car and jumping in the driver’s seat, starting the ignition and pumping up the AC.

As he started to pull away, he yelled out to Rauf, “Call the house and have them prepare a cool bath for Maria! I also want ice towels and plenty of water ready when we get there!” Wheels squealing, he sped away, not even bothering to look back. It took all his control to keep his eyes on the road as he wove in and out of traffic. He knew his driving was borderline dangerous and probably put her at more risk than the heat exhaustion, but he wasn’t thinking straight. All he could think of was that he should have seen the signs sooner. His stomach tied up in knots, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to breath until his Maria was awake and insulting him again.

XXX

The first thing Maria noticed as she gained consciousness was how delightfully cool she felt. It had been so hot outside. English summers could get hot too, but the air would feel more like a muggy soup. In comparison, Dubai’s arid heat had been easy to ignore. The next thing she noticed was the sensation of soft sheets beneath her contrasting with the rougher texture of something on her forehead. Slowly opening her eyes, she blearily looked around at her surroundings. She was in her room at Altair’s mansion, spread out on the bed, a cool, damp towel resting soothingly on her forehead.

“Praise Allah, you’re awake.”

Sleepily, she glanced up to see Altair perched on the mattress next to her, a look of genuine concern etched on his handsome face. As she opened her mouth, he reached behind her, carefully propping her up against a mountain of pillows. “Don’t speak just yet. We need to get you hydrated again. Here.” He pressed a glass of water into her hands, damp with condensation. “Drink this. Once it’s empty you can yell at me.”

Almost mechanically, Maria took the glass, sipping the cool liquid through the straw. After the first couple sips, though, she started greedily gulping it down, a surge of thirst overwhelming her. Altair quickly pulled it away from her lips. “Calm down. I’m sure you’re thirsty, but you need to go slow. Otherwise you’ll make yourself sick.”

Taking a deep breath, she nodded, once again taking small sips under his watchful eye. When the glass was finally empty, she handed it back, laying her head against the soft pillows. “What happened?” she asked, voice cracked and tired. “The last thing I remember was the park…”

Altair rubbed the back of his head. He looked incredibly guilty. “You passed out from heat exhaustion. It’s my fault; I forgot that you’re probably not used to Middle Eastern temperatures, especially in June, and I never even bothered to check if you needed water or if you were feeling too hot.” He sighed. “I’m a fool. You could have died from my negligence.”

Blinking away the last of her fatigue, she stared at him. “How did I get here?”

“Rauf and I carried you to my car, then raced here. My servants were able to draw you a cool bath to help regulate your body temperature.”

“And have you stayed by my side this whole time?”

“Yes. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

She smiled. “That was sweet of you.” She almost laughed at the utterly shocked look on his face. “Yes, I paid you a compliment. Don’t get used to it. And I’m not completely blameless; I should have known to drink water, or at least mentioned that I wasn’t feeling well. You probably saved my life.”

Gently, he smiled at her. “I’ll have dinner brought up. You’ve been out for a few hours; I’m sure you’re hungry.”

Her stomach growled loud enough for them both to hear. “I suppose I could eat,” she replied, blushing slightly.

With a chuckle, he took out his phone, speaking rapidly in Arabic before hanging up. “I just told the kitchen staff you’re awake, so dinner should be up within twenty minutes.” Hesitantly, he removed the towel from her brow. “Once you’ve eaten, I want you to get some more rest. The worst is behind you, but you need to get your strength back.”

As much as the idea of obeying Altair’s orders irked her, her brain reminded her that he was probably right. “Fair enough. So, after dinner I’m free of your presence for the evening?”

“Alas, it would appear so. With that meeting rescheduled, I need to talk to Malik about a few things. But tomorrow I won’t be letting you out of my sight,” he teased.

She rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth quirked into a smile. “I think you’ve given me plenty of attention, Altair. But does Malik live here or something?”

“Basically. He has his own house, but considering how much we work together, it’s often easier for him to stay here during the week. He insists it’s so he can keep an eye on me and make sure I’m not slacking off; I think he just gets lonely in his own place.”

Maria nodded solemnly. She certainly found going home to an empty flat after a long day of work rather discouraging at times. She could only imagine how much worse it would be in an enormous mansion.

She shifted slightly, and felt an odd sensation against her skin. Glancing down, she realized she was wearing a flimsy silk negligee. The thing left little to the imagination, giving a tantalizing view of her cleavage and barely coming to mid-thigh. Worse, the hem had risen up to her hip on one side, and she realized she was adorned with matching panties. Heat rose to her cheeks as she pulled down the negligee as far over her legs as it would go. She turned to Altair, thoughts of murder bubbling up in her mind. “You mentioned I was given a bath. Who, exactly, bathed me? And why am I wearing this?”

He glanced down at her approvingly. “You’ll be happy to hear I was not the one who bathed and changed you. The maids were rather adamant that I leave that to them. Though I am the one who picked out your lovely attire for this evening,” he said.

Maria’s fury calmed slightly upon hearing that he hadn’t seen her naked while she was unconscious, but she stiffened when she found his face mere inches from hers. “Don’t worry, Maria; when I see you naked, you’ll be fully conscious so I can appreciate the desire in your eyes.” His fingers trailed against her bare thigh. “Tempting as it might have been to sneak a peak of you in the bath, I’d rather you invite me to join you. But if you’re interested, I’d be happy to forgo dinner so that I might savor each and every inch of your beautiful skin right now.” Maria started to puff up indignantly, and he laughed. “I’m just teasing, Maria! Even if you were willing, I’d rather you get some rest. After all, you’ll need to be at your full strength if you hope to keep up with me.”

“Modest as always, Novice,” came Malik’s voice from the door.

Altair jumped back as if he’d been shocked, nearly falling gracelessly off the bed. “Don’t you knock, Malik?” he grumbled, smoothing down his hoodie.

“Why would I need to unless you were doing something untoward?” he quipped, strolling into the room, Rauf carrying a tray of food behind him.

The large man set the tray down on the bedside table before extending his hand to Maria. “It’s a pleasure to formally meet you, Miss Thorpe. I’m Rauf, head of Altair’s security. I’m sorry we couldn’t have met under better circumstances.”

Weakly, she took his hand. “Charmed. Forgive me for not getting up.” She suddenly felt a bit self-conscious, wishing there was a way for her to discretely put on some pants or climb under the covers. Being dressed in a skimpy negligee in front of Altair was bad enough; being so exposed in front of both Malik and this new man was downright humiliating.

Seeming to notice her discomfort, Rauf smiled brightly before strolling over to her closet and grabbing a light blanket from inside. With a flick of his wrists, her legs were covered by the soft fabric, much to Altair’s obvious disappointment. “No worries.”

Malik shook his head, though he too found himself reluctant to see Maria’s lovely legs covered so quickly. “We brought you dinner, and thought we’d do you a favor and rescue you from Altair’s company.”

“She was enjoying herself just fine,” Altair said indignantly.

“She looked ready to slap you. Which, given how she’s been in your presence all day, I can’t blame her for.” Taking a seat on the bed, he studied her carefully. “At least you didn’t get sunburned. I can’t imagine what someone as fair as you would look like.”

“I’d look like a boiled lobster, and be just as unpleasant,” Maria replied. “I knew to put on sunscreen before I left, Malik. I’m not an idiot.”

“No, just foolish enough to forget to keep hydrated and rely on this one,” he jerked his head to his partner, “to keep you alive. Truly, you two are made for each other.”

She glared at him murderously. “I’ve had a long day, Mr. al-Sayf, and my patience is at its limit. Unless you’d like to get slapped yourself, I suggest you take that back.”

He grinned. “Good to see you didn’t fry your brain. If you’d been anything less than your obstinate self, I’d have insisted on sending you to a hospital.”

“And you might end up in one if I don’t hear an apology in the next five seconds.”

He took her hand and kissed it gently. “My sincerest apologies, Maria, for ever thinking you and that arrogant fool were in any way suited for each other. Even if you are equally thick-headed.” Again, he could feel Altair’s eyes bore into him jealously. Their hatred for each other might have cooled, but that old surge of pride whenever he bested Altair flared up inside him. Old habits die hard, after all. And if he got to flirt with a beautiful woman at the same time, who was he to turn down such a golden opportunity?

Maria’s frown remained, but it was far less irritable. “You were right; you really are an asshole when you want to be.”

“Perhaps, but my other talents more than make up for it, if you’re ever interested.”

 **“She’s not, and you can put her hand down, Malik,”** Altair growled.

Deliberately, he ran his thumb over her knuckles, smirking at how her cheeks turned ever-so-slightly pink. English roses like her really did have such lovely blushes. **“She doesn’t look opposed to me.”**

**“She’s just being polite by not slapping you.”**

**“Like she did you?”**

**“That was different; I was obviously being an ass. You’re just making her uncomfortable.”**

**“Perhaps you’re losing your touch, Novice.”**

**“Perhaps you should put her fucking hand down,”** he snapped, catching Malik off-guard. The one-armed Arab did so, surprised at how vehemently Altair seemed to oppose his best friend flirting with her. She was supposed to be just another conquest, another wound to inflict on de Sable. What did it matter which of them slept with her? Moreover, he’d never known him to stay by a woman’s side if she fainted; normally, he’d send them directly to the hospital, content to let trained professionals take care of them and only attending to them once they were awake. Instead, he’d fretted by her side for hours, refusing to leave the room even after the doctor had assured him that Maria would be fine.

He wanted to say it was all an elaborate act to endear himself to his target, but something in his eyes told Malik that if he hadn’t let go of Maria’s hand, he’d have lost his other arm. He shared a look with Rauf, who seemed just as dumbfounded.

“What am I missing?” Maria asked, studying the three men. She couldn’t understand a word of Arabic, but given their actions, she had to assume it had something to do with her.

“Nothing important. They’re just being idiots who have clearly forgotten their manners. I apologize on their behalf; here I thought I had taught them better,” Rauf assured her, giving the two men a look that made him look like a particularly stern grizzly bear. He was grateful they’d unconsciously switched to their native tongue; he doubted their guest would appreciate hearing two grown men fighting over her like a couple of children over a new toy. The men in question immediately bowed their heads, looking faintly embarrassed.

“He started it,” Altair mumbled, and Maria had to bite back a laugh at just how petulant he sounded.

Rauf held up his hands placatingly. “The important thing is that Maria is well, and does not need to put up with either of your nonsense. I suggest we let her eat dinner in peace. As she said, she’s had a long day.”

Maria smiled faintly in gratitude as Altair and Malik both grumbled mutinously, but obediently got up to leave. However, quick as a flash, Altair ducked down to brush a kiss against her rosy mouth.

“I’ll see you later, Maria,” he whispered against her lips.

Sputtering angrily, Maria blushed as he strutted out of the room, both Malik and Rauf rolling their eyes in fond exasperation, the tension between them clearly eased.

Malik gave her a small, apologetic smile. “I’m sorry if I was too forward with you. I suppose Altair is a bad influence on me sometimes.”

She returned the smile. “It’s fine. Honestly, after dealing with his advances, I barely noticed yours.”

He chuckled. Despite his apprehension towards Altair’s odd behavior, it was nice to see someone else willing to put him in his place. “I hope you feel better in the morning. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask any of the servants, and I’m right down the hall.”

“Thank you.”

Rauf lingered turned to her before following his charges. “As head of Altair’s security, it’s my job to keep you safe as much as them. If you need me, I’ve programmed my number into your phone. Apologies if it seems a bit invasive, but I’d rather you have it and not need it than need it and not have it.”

“Thank you,” she said, fighting to regain her composure. “I hope I won’t need it, either.”

With a nod, he closed the door behind him, leaving Maria to enjoy her meal in peace.

XXX

It was almost midnight when Maria was awakened by a faint knock on her door. Rubbing the remnants of sleep from her eyes, she staggered over to the door, pulling it open to find Altair waiting for her.

“Altair, what could possibly be so important that you’d wake me up?”

He gave a small, almost apologetic grin. “I didn’t want to wake you, but I figured you’d appreciate me sneaking into your room even less.”

He sleep-fogged brain could barely make sense of his words. “What?”

“It’s ten minutes to midnight. I’m here to claim my last kiss for the night.”

“You woke me up for that?” she growled. She looked a bit frazzled, and he did feel a bit guilty about interrupting her sleep when she’d clearly needed it. But he was not missing his chance.

He shrugged. “I told you, I don’t take advantage of unconscious women. I prefer you to be awake to enjoy it, anyway.” He gave her a considering look. “Unless you’d rather I play the handsome prince, waking Sleeping Beauty with a kiss?”

The glare she gave him would give Medusa pause. She was certainly wishing she had a dragon to guard her. “You are utterly insufferable.”

“I think I’ve been rather generous. I did allow you to eat dinner without me, after all.”

With a sigh of defeat, she beckoned him forward. “If you must kiss me, fine, but after that I want to be left alone until morning.”

Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her flush against him. “So eager. Did I interrupt a particularly pleasant dream?”

Luckily, the darkness hid her blush. Apparently, her subconscious had not been on the same page as her dignity, as it had been supplying her with a rather vivid fantasy of a handsome Middle-Eastern man who most certainly did _not_ have golden eyes and a vertical scar across his lips slowly kissing his way down her body. She told herself it was a good thing that he’d woken her up before the dream could get too far, but her tingling body disagreed.

“No, just sweet oblivion,” she shot back, shifting slightly in his grip. Altair bit back a small groan as her wiggling hips brushed against his groin. “Now, if you’d stop talking and just kiss me, I’d like to go to bed.”

“Was that an invitation for me to join you?”

Maria did her best to ignore the prickle of anticipation that stirred between her thighs. “No, it was an invitation to actually get your kiss in before your time is up. Midnight approaches, after all.”

Swift and silent as an owl, Altair swooped in to claim his final kiss for the night. Mouths melded seamlessly, heads instinctually angling themselves after a full day of practice. But unlike his first teasing kiss, or his later more passionate ones, this kiss was slow, deliberate, and provocative. This was a kiss designed to savor, caressing her soft pout, blazing a trail of molten pleasure across her lips.

A tiny moan escaped her, and mentally she cursed herself for allowing him that small victory. She told herself it was because her body was still keyed up from her dream. She told herself that she longed for the clock to strike twelve, that she desired nothing more but for him to finally leave her in peace. But it had been so long since she’d had such intense physical contact. So long since any man had made her feel beautiful and wanted. His skillful mouth sparked pure, feminine awareness in her, and his large, muscular arms made her feel dainty and delicate. And, despite having abandoned such girly notions at a young age, she found she rather liked it. It was a novel experience, being at someone’s mercy, trusting them enough not to abuse the power, to believe they wanted only to give her pleasure, to stoke the fires between them in mutual delight.

So, much as she hated the fact that it was Altair, the arrogant, manipulative ass who was basically dangling her job over her head, she allowed herself to give in, one last time. To enjoy the pleasure his mouth offered, to fall for his charms until the spell was broken at midnight. Then, she’d go back to being the professional, uninterested Maria. Mind made up, she wound her arms around his neck, kissing him back.

Her responsiveness made something primal rear up deep within him. Hands roamed her curves, caressing, memorizing, making notes of her erogenous zones. He smirked when he felt her shiver as his fingers trailed down her spine, feeling her shift and wiggle against him delightfully. A grunt escaped him as her thigh brushed against his half-hard member, and he resisted the urge to slam her against the wall and ravish her. But no, after the day she’d had, he didn’t want to risk hurting her. So he forced himself to be gentle, to restrain his lust and just enjoy the sensation of her body against his, to relish this sweet torture.

The antique clock at the end of the hall chimed as midnight arrived, coaxing him to give one final, alluring stroke with his tongue as he disentangled himself. Pulling away to catch his breath and check her over, he audibly groaned at the picture she made. She was still in the pink silk nightie, the soft fabric clinging to her full chest and hips seductively. Dark hair curled over her shoulders, casting sensual shadows over her chest. Her mouth was kiss-swollen, and her skin practically glowed under the moonlight.

She looked like a nymph, innocent yet made for pleasure.

Resisting the urge to lean in and kiss her again, Altair forced himself to back away. “You were quite responsive, Maria.”

Her round breasts rose and fell enticingly under the skimpy negligee. “I figured I’d give you something to remember me by, as after tonight, you’re never going to get the chance to kiss me again.”

Golden eyes glimmered with anticipation as he looked down at the beautiful, clearly aroused woman before him. “We’ll see, Maria. After all, I still have until Tuesday morning to make you mine.”

Leaning in, she pressed her heaving chest against him, breathing into his ear, “Only in your dreams, Altair. Now, I believe it’s time you let me go back to sleep.”

He bit his lip as her hot breath caressed his skin. Desperately, he resisted the urge to pull her against him again, to lean down and sample those ripe, tantalizing mounds she was so mockingly offering. But a deal’s a deal, so he reluctantly released her, promising himself that soon he’d make her beg. “Then they’ll certainly be sweet dreams. I’ll see you in the morning, Maria.”

Backing away, he watched as she shut the door, absently wondering just when a night would end with him on the other side of it. It would be worth the wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be honest, am I keeping Altair in-character? I'm trying to modernize him, but I'm worried the playful banter is too Ezio-like. I may go back and make some minor edits to past chapters to make him more like the Altair we know. Sorry if it takes a bit for the next chapter to go up, too; I've got a convention I'm attending this weekend, then next week is full of work deadlines, but I'll try not to take too long, even if it's just a short chapter. Thanks again for reading!


	5. One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who was reading this story before June 28, 2017, you might want to go reread the previous chapters, as I've made some edits to both events and characterization. Anyone else, this story was perfect from the start and never needed any edits, I don't know what you're talking about.  
> This may not be a super-long chapter, but I'm pleased I got it done despite my work deadlines.

The sun was just peaking over the horizon as Maria got dressed, donning her sneakers, Lycra exercise pants, and tank top. On a normal work day she would get up at the break of dawn for the sake of going on a run or indulging in some fencing drills before heading off to a long day of work. Due to jet lag and stress, she’d been negligent of her normal routine, but this morning, thanks to getting nearly twelve hours of sleep, she woke up feeling fresh and far too energetic.

Heading down to the dining room, she flagged down one of the maids as she went about her duty. “Excuse me, do you happen to know where the gymnasium is?”

It took the woman a moment to understand her question, but she smiled pleasantly and replied, “End of hall, on left. Master Altair is training with Master Malik and Rauf.”

“Thank you,” she said, even as she inwardly groaned. Of course Altair would be in the gym. From what she’d read, he was a fitness nut and probably made sure to get up before the sun even rose to fit in a workout. Though she couldn’t understand why he had to. From what she’d seen so far, the man did little actual work; couldn’t he exercise literally any other time of the day? Still, she wouldn’t let his presence dissuade her; she hadn’t had a decent workout in days, and she needed to get back into routine. Last night was the last time he’d affect her, anyway. He could exercise buck naked and it wouldn’t matter. She was back in control.

Walking into the gym, however, that resolve deflated like a hot air balloon that had been struck by a cannon. Gymnasium was certainly a good word for the place. It was the size of her old secondary school’s athletic field house. An intense obstacle course took up most of the room, looking like something out of American Ninja Warrior. Ropes, balance beams, ramps, and other hurdles sprawled before her, both intimidating to look at but enticing to try for herself.

Of course, her treacherous brain barely registered the course. Oh no, it decided to focus on Altair, instead.

He wasn’t naked, but he still made quite the picture in nothing but sweatpants and sneakers, climbing, jumping, and practically flying through the obstacles as if they were nothing. Unconsciously she moved closer just as he reached the salmon ladder. Barely breaking his stride, he leaped up onto it, broad back muscles clenching and bulging as he made his way up. A faint sheen of sweat made his skin glow under the lights, and she felt the place between her thighs clench in appreciation of such a display of physical prowess.

As he finished, Malik called out, “Don’t slip, Novice! You may not use them much, but I doubt the staff wants to clean your brains off the mats.”

Altair gave a genuine laugh as he leaped onto the final platform. “Perhaps I could persuade Maria to nurse me back to health.”

Rauf glanced over at Maria as she approached, giving her a small grin. “What do you think, Maria? Care to play nursemaid to this fool?”

She scoffed, regaining her composure, even as her body hummed at the spectacle of masculine strength above her. The man could give Stephen Amell a run for his money. “I have far better things to do with my time, Rauf. We can’t all play around on obstacle courses all day.”

With an astounding amount of grace, Altair dropped from the ledge to the floor, even doing a flip mid-air. “Have you ever tried parkour, Maria?”

The shirtless photos she’d seen in fitness magazines were nothing compared to being within reach of the real thing. What was worse, she’d caught a glance of his toned abdominals, and those sweatpants hung almost indecently low. She could see the V of his hips trail downwards, tempting her gaze to linger lower. She forced her eyes to stay on his face. “I can’t say I have. It’s impressive, yes, but it looks like an overcomplicated method of getting from one place to another.”

He openly grinned at her. She was noticing his expressions were becoming more open, as if he wasn’t bothering hiding behind his normally stoic façade. “You shouldn’t criticize something without trying it.”

Looking over the elaborate course, she raised an eyebrow. “I’m quite certain I can criticize breaking my neck without having to end up in the hospital first.”

Malik chuckled. “You’ll be fine, Maria. If you can run, jump, and climb, you can do parkour. And if the Novice hasn’t broken his neck with all the stupid risks he takes to show off, you won’t either. You’re far more sensible than he is.”

“That’s not hard, Mr. al-Sayf.”

“You do realize I’m right here, right?” Altair said sourly. He did not like how easily Malik and Maria had bonded over their mutual appreciation for insulting him.

Malik ignored him, gently placing his hand on Maria’s back and leading her to the starting point. “I think at this point, you can call me Malik. And if I can run this course with one arm, you can certainly give it a shot.”

Biting her lip, Maria eyed the various ledges, obstacles, and balance beams with trepidation. It did look fun, but it was also incredibly intimidating. And Altair had run it with such skill. What if she fell on her ass and embarrassed herself? She didn’t want to give these men any reason to laugh at her. Of course, it looked like they would think less of her anyway if she refused. She was truly stuck between a rock and a hard place.

One last time, she tried to talk her way out of it. “I really don’t see the point to this. I only came down here to use the treadmill. It’s leg day. I can’t skip leg day.”

Rauf laughed, hearty and deep. “You won’t be. Parkour is a far better method of exercise than some silly treadmill. Why just use your legs when you can use your whole body?”

Altair chuckled. “If you’re scared to try it, Maria, I understand. Parkour is not for the faint of heart.”

She glared at him. “I am not scared.”

“You sound it.”

“I most certainly do not!”

“Then quit making excuses and try it.”

Fists clenching, she stormed over to the starting point. She looked over the course before her. It really did look like something out of American Ninja Warrior, but with a few twists. She stiffened as she felt Altair’s breath brush across her sensitive ear. “You don’t have to complete the course, Maria. Just give it a try. Take your time, and don’t force yourself to go further than you can just to prove a point. And don’t worry about getting hurt; I’ll be right behind you the whole time.”

Maria wanted to be insulted by his hovering, but she actually found it oddly comforting. He sounded sincere, like he knew she wasn’t completely comfortable but was pushing her to try because he was convinced she’d enjoy it. “I still don’t see the point.”

“The point is it’s fun. And you never know when such skills might come in handy.”

Much as she wanted to, she couldn’t fault his logic. One should never shy away from new experiences due to fear.

Taking a deep breath, Maria took a few steps back, then ran towards the first obstacle; a bunch of diagonally slanted platforms she’d have to get across. With a flying leap, she bounced off the first step, pushing off onto the second, third, fourth, and fifth before landing gracefully onto the steady platform. After was some rather normal looking, if steep stairs leading down towards a low balance beam which she crossed with ease. She took half a moment to notice a pole with a horizontal protrusion in front of her, jumping to grab it, holding in a shout of surprise as it rotated to the next obstacle.

It was another balance beam, but this one was narrower and had numerous pendulum balls blocking the path. Charging forward, she did her best to avoid the swinging weights, wobbling slightly when one of them knocked her in the shoulder. It wasn’t heavy, but it certainly forced her to fight for balance as it threatened to knock her off. Regaining her footing, she dashed the rest of the way, weaving between the dangling obstacles.

Next, she came to a pit with a low wall protruding from the side. Grateful she’d hadn’t stopped, she used her momentum to leap sideways and run along the wall for a few moments. She stumbled when she landed on the flat platform, but otherwise was just happy she hadn’t fallen. A rope dangled before her over another pit, and she jumped towards it, leading with her chest and using the force to push towards the next platform.

The next ledge was set at an incline, putting a subtle but new strain on her muscles.  _Rauf was right. I’m certainly getting a workout from this,_ she thought. Coming to a bunch of hanging rings, she latched onto the first one, swinging towards the next one and grabbing hold. She let out a little laugh. It was like being a kid again on the playground. She remembered swinging on the monkey bars with her friends, seeing who could get to the other side using the fewest bars.

Arriving at the next obstacle, she paused just enough to get a good look at the high wall in front of her. It was at least fifteen feet tall, with small handholds in seemingly random spots. Assessing the situation, she nodded to herself before stepping into the first hole by her feet. Propelling upwards, she managed to grasp another hold with both hands, pulling herself up as her feet desperately felt around for another hole or protrusion. After a couple tense seconds, she found one, using it to leap diagonally upwards to the next set of grips. Keeping her pace, she finally made it to the top, breathing hard as she scrambled onto the plateau.

Standing up, she took stock of the course. She’d barely made it a third of the way through, and her arms and legs were already straining. Her heart was pounding from the rush of it all, and she could feel the blood pulsing through her veins. A thin sheen of sweat was forming on her skin, and she sucked in a few deep breaths.

She looked at the obstacle before her; a row of balance beams of alternating heights loomed over a large pit filled with foam squares. She was higher up than she’d realized, and for a moment, an absurd wave of vertigo came over her. Shaking her head, she forced the feeling down and charged forward, leaping onto the lower of the two bars.

Unfortunately, she only made it a few steps before she slipped. Time seemed to freeze as she registered she was about to fall, and then gravity took over with a sickening rush. She plummeted into the pit, the soft foam squares easing the force of the impact into practically nothing. Catching her breath, she attempted to walk to the side of the pit, but found the cushions rather difficult to get through. With a growl, she tried to climb her way out of the pit, but the foam blocks offered no traction, causing her to sink deeper as she was only able to inch forward. It was almost like quicksand, and her cheeks burned as she struggled to get out.  _Aren’t these things supposed to be filled with water?_  she thought angrily.  _That’s what they have on TV._

“Let me help you,” Altair said, reaching out from the edge.

Glaring at him, she toyed with the idea of grabbing his offered hands simply to pull him in with her, but decided it wasn’t worth remaining stuck in the pit. Taking a deep breath, Maria accepted his hands. As if she weighed nothing, he lifted her up into his arms, wrapping them around her securely as she regained her balance on the edge. Glancing up, she stared into Altair’s bright golden eyes. He had a look of pride on his face as he smiled down at her. “You got much further than I thought, Maria. I’m impressed. I didn’t even get that far my first time on one of these courses.”

She returned his smile, breathing heavily but strangely energized. No wonder parkour had taken the world by storm. It may have been a ridiculous way of getting places, but it basically turned the world into an enormous jungle gym. Perhaps she’d see if there were any such courses in London.

Malik chimed in, “True, but that course was a bit different, Novice. That one involved water.”

Altair glared at his friend, while Maria raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Why would that stop him?”

“Malik, don’t you dare—”

“He can’t swim,” Malik crowed. “He can fly through the air like a bird or run like a leopard, but he sinks faster than a stone in water.”

Despite herself, Maria burst into giggles. “Is that why the pits are filled with foam instead of water?”

Rauf chuckled. “Indeed. They’re a pain to get out of, but it’s better than having to fish him out when he falls.”

Maria laughed harder, but Altair glared down at her, and her mouth shut with an audible _click_. There was a flicker of hurt in his eyes, and she had the feeling it was a rather sensitive subject. A twinge of guilt twisted her stomach, and she gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. But you’re so athletic, not being able to swim seems almost absurd.”

He glanced away, and from this close she could see the faintest signs of redness on his cheeks. Was he blushing? Perhaps it was just sunburn from yesterday. “We all have our weaknesses. Besides, I live in the desert; swimming is pointless.”

Without thinking, she placed her hand on his cheek. He stared at her, surprised. “Perhaps, but you never know when such a thing might come in handy.” Her brow wrinkled as she thought of something. “Wait, didn’t you say you have a pool?”

“Just because I have one doesn’t mean I use it. Malik and Rauf are the ones who like to swim. I prefer to spend my time in the hot tub.” He gave her a wink. “Perhaps you’d care to join me? I find a good soak can be quite pleasurable after a good workout.”

This time it was her turn to blush as the image of him relaxing in the hot water, steam making his tan skin wet and shiny, popped into her head. She could imagine him reclining against the side of the tub, beckoning her to join him as droplets of water trailed down his defined pectorals into the pool below.

 _No!_  she scolded herself.  _That kiss last night was the last he’s getting from you, remember?_  Swallowing harshly, it dawned on her that she was still in Altair’s embrace. She should have been used to the feel of his body pressed against hers by that point, but the sensation of firm, sweat-slicked skin reminded her that he was very shirtless. What’s worse, she could smell his natural musk, something fresh and sensual, undeniably masculine. It made her mouth water, and the baser part of her brain whispered for her to lean forward and find out what his skin tasted like.

Clearing her throat, she took a step back, trying to ignore the part of her that already missed having his strong arms around her. “I’m sure it is, but I’d prefer a shower.”  _A cold one,_  she added to herself.

Malik watched the two silently. Apparently, Altair had somehow managed to endear himself to the Englishwoman yesterday. He had the feeling if his friend had tried to hold her like that before, she’d be far less accommodating. He wasn’t sure whether to smile or roll his eyes. He’d honestly hoped Maria would hold out for a few days longer; he would have liked seeing the novice knocked off his high horse a bit more. But he’d never seen Altair this open and expressive around someone besides himself, Rauf, and occasionally Ezio. Certainly not since the car crash. Whether he realized it or not, little by little, Maria was stripping away his defenses.

It struck him that this might not be a good thing. She was still a potential enemy. Had she worked for anyone else, Malik wouldn’t care, but de Sable wouldn’t have sent her in his place for nothing. She wasn’t trying to seduce anyone, at least not intentionally, but she was still a distraction at a critical point in their plans. Was that why the French bastard had permitted Altair to keep his personal assistant for so long?

Too many things didn’t add up, and suddenly Altair’s obsession with the woman was no longer amusing.

Cracking his neck, he pointed towards the door, hoping his sudden discomfort wouldn’t be too obvious. “I agree. It’s about time for breakfast, anyway. Save your flirting for when I’m not hungry.”

“If you don’t like it, nothing’s stopping you from leaving, Malik,” Altair said, eying Maria’s lovely blush. It seemed she wasn’t as unaffected from his midnight kiss as she’d pretended. Perhaps he’d be able to coax her to let him kiss her again before the day was up.

Rauf lead Maria towards the exit as the two friends bickered behind them.

“If I left, this entire place would fall apart,” Malik said. “And given how Maria ran out of your office yesterday, I think your need to be chaperoned outweighs my desire to gag you.”

Maria blushed harder at the memory of the incident in the office while Altair shot back, “Sorry, Malik, you’re a good-looking man, but I don’t do gags. If you want to get kinky, find someone else.”

She nearly walked into the wall as she fought off an invading image of both Altair and Malik, absolutely refusing to let her brain go that far. Good lord, it had been too long since she’d gotten laid.

Rauf chuckled good naturedly. “Some things never change. They may not be at each other’s throats anymore, but they still bicker like cats and dogs.”

Forcing herself to focus on Rauf, she asked, “Were they that bad?”

“I had to stop more than a few fights from turning bloody. Their mentor felt their hatred was a good motivator. Personally, I think if they’d just gotten it out of their system on the sparring mats early on instead of encouraging it to fester, they’d have become friends sooner. It certainly would have made things easier on Kadar. Then maybe there’d still be three of them.” Maria gave him an inquisitive look, and Rauf shook his head, seeming to remember himself. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

She wanted to ask what their fighting had to do with Kadar’s death but thought better of it. From what Altair had told her, Kadar had basically been raised by Rauf and the staff. His death was probably a sensitive topic for the big man. Instead, she patted his arm sympathetically and glanced over her shoulder. “Boys, if you don’t stop fighting, I’m going to end up eating breakfast all alone. Surely two well-bred gentlemen wouldn’t leave a lady to fend for herself?”

The fighting stopped, and she could faintly hear two sets of sneakers running to catch up with her. It was surprising how quiet they were, even on the polished wood. She shrugged. It didn’t matter how quiet their steps were; the way they bickered, she was certain she’d be able to hear them from a mile away.

XXX

After a cleansing shower, Altair had decided that, since it was such a beautiful day, breakfast was best served in the garden. The golden sun shone brilliantly over the pristine marble fountains and statues. The hibiscus and birds of paradise were in full bloom, releasing their sweet scent for all to enjoy. A few birds chirped merrily as they hopped from bush to bush, their songs harmonious with the bubbling of the fountain.

Yes, it was a beautiful day, and Altair couldn’t be happier.

He’d gotten to show Maria one of his greatest passions, and from the look of things, she’d enjoyed the parkour course, despite her initial trepidation. Then there was her reaction as he held her afterward. Slowly but surely, she was letting down her defenses, leaving herself open to his seductive attacks. Best of all, despite a full night’s sleep and shower, the kiss from last night still lingered on his lips, the memory of her sweet taste easily bringing a smile to his face. When she came down for breakfast, dressed in a sharp blue blouse and fitted slacks, she even blessed him with a tiny smile, though she still insisted on sitting next to Malik instead of him. The woman was warming up to him, and he was intent on continuing his progress.

Malik, meanwhile, studied his companions as Altair chatted animatedly about the various parkour competitions he’d participated in. Maria still contributed mostly snarky comments to the conversation, but she didn’t seem as bothered by him as before. He wanted to be happy that the English beauty was letting her guard down, as he found her wit and demeanor quite refreshing to Altair’s past lovers, but something about the whole thing was keeping him on edge. There was something in the air, some sort of tension that he was certain only he noticed.

What was the saying about a second shoe dropping?

Rauf strolled into the garden, taking a quick, surveying glance around before making a beeline for the table.

Malik and Altair looked at him in mild surprise. Even after all these years, they knew Rauf preferred eating breakfast alone. He claimed he needed the silence after a morning of listening to his two students insult each other during training.

“Everything alright, Rauf? I’m not in danger of being assassinated, am I?” Altair joked.

Rauf only cracked the barest hint of a smile. “That remains to be seen, sir. You’ve made a lot of enemies.”

Malik frowned. Rauf had been in excellent spirits when they’d left the gym, heading off to do his morning inspection and enjoy a cup of coffee as he read the paper like he had every day since they were children. “That he has. Though if you’re worried, I don’t think Maria’s at the top of the list anymore.”

Maria snorted. “What makes you say that?”

He gave her a small grin, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Altair told me you saved his life yesterday. If you really wanted him dead, that was your best chance to do so without consequences.”

“I still need his signature, Malik. Then I’ll let him get hit by a car.”

Altair chuckled, knowing there was no real malice behind her comment. “Put that way, I can assure you I won’t be signing. Though, there are still other ways to convince me,” he said, looking her over appreciatively. It was amazing; even dressed in a modest blouse and trousers, she made his blood heat up more than the entire lineup of Victoria’s Secret models.

Malik slapped his face into his palm as Maria rolled her eyes. “You sound like Ezio. If you’re going to act like this, I’ll sign the damn contract for you and send Maria home.”

“Would that actually work?” she asked.

“Honestly, no, but it might get de Sable off your back for a bit, and we’ll both be free of Altair’s oh-so-subtle come-ons.”

Maria chuckled at the man’s snark, and he graced her with a more genuine smile. Perhaps he’d been overthinking things. Years of subterfuge and manipulation made had made him paranoid. Even their allies were often forced to back-stab and plot. But Maria was a career-driven woman, and while she was working for a company he would personally like to watch burn to the ground, she seemed sincere enough in her words and actions. She was doing her job, and was intent on doing it in a direct and honest fashion. Perhaps that was why Altair was so taken with her; people like that were rare in their world.

Rauf cleared his throat meaningfully, bringing their attention back to him. “Have any of you seen the news today? Specifically, the tabloids?”

“No. Why, has Ezio made the front page again?” Altair asked.

Malik shook his head. “Remember, that pool for him having an illegitimate lovechild somewhere is still open. If it happens this month, I think Connor will be getting close to a million dollars.”

“No, sir.” Rauf strode over to Maria and gently lifted her arm. “I apologize, Miss Thorpe, but may I see how far you can reach?” Confused, Maria allowed him to hold out her arm, nodding to himself as he saw it didn’t quite make it across the table. “Thank you. I wanted to check before you saw this.”

Solemnly, Rauf handed the Englishwoman the celebrity gossip section, and after a few seconds her eyes went wide, then murderous, clenching the paper in her fists like she was restraining herself from ripping it to shreds. Head jerking up, she gave Altair a look of such fury both he and Malik scooted their chairs back.

“You conniving, miserable wanker!” she screamed, leaping out of her chair and lunging at him. Her fingers just missed clawing his face, and Rauf swiftly caught her around the waist, forcing her back into her chair despite her struggles. The bodyguard found himself mildly impressed by her strength, as she was certainly putting up more of a fight than he’d expected from a woman like her.

The two men stared at the paper on the table. Pictures of Altair and Maria from their day out littered the front page, from them lying on the ground together after she’d saved him to coming out of the boutique. But worst of all, there were two pictures from the park; one of him kissing her neck, the look on her face one of pleasure as he made his mark, and the other of him claiming her lips. The headline read  _Who Is Altair’s Latest Lover? And How Long Will She Last?_

“Fuck,” Altair muttered, scanning the paper quickly. The article itself was mercifully short, speculating on who the brown haired woman was, with no mention of her name or occupation. But her face was fully visible in the photos, and he knew from experience that this particular tabloid was both relentless in pursuing a story, and had a pretty major global presence.

“You planned this, didn’t you? You arrogant, slimy, manipulative bastard!”

Getting out of his chair, but keeping the table between them in case his bodyguard’s grip loosened, he held up his hands placatingly. “Maria, I swear, I had nothing to do with this.”

Before she could hurl more insults, her phone rang, and her blood ran cold as she recognized the ringtone. Stilling in Rauf’s arm, she stared at the device on the table, watching the screen light up with her boss’ name. Hesitantly, she reached for it, praying that it was just another misplaced file.

“Hello?”

Robert’s voice was crisp and cool even through the phone. “I must say, Maria, I wasn’t expecting you to resort to sleeping with him so soon. Did you at least get the contract squared away?”

“What are you talking about, sir?”

“Typically, I avoid trashy tabloids, but when I find my assistant has made the front page, I feel I have no choice but to make sure she hasn’t damaged Templar Industries’ reputation.”

Her heart sped up, fluttering in her chest like a panicked dove. “Sir, I swear, those pictures aren’t what they seem. I haven’t slept with him!”

“So you don’t have the contract?”

“No, sir.”

“Then you’ve not only damaged your reputation around the office further, but you don’t even have anything to show for it.”

“Sir, I—”

“Maria, I want to put my faith in you, but given how important this contract is, I thought you’d be taking things more seriously. Instead, you’re making the front page for making out with a potential client. On top of that, some rather sensitive financial information was leaked to the press last night. So, not only do I have to deal with that problem, but I have to field questions about why my assistant is gallivanting throughout Dubai making a spectacle of herself.” He sighed harshly. “How could you let me down like this?”

She could feel her throat tighten at the disappointment in his voice, guilt overwhelming her. She barely noticed when Rauf put her back on her feet, though she found herself too stunned to move. “Robert, I promise, I’ll get the signature. I still have a week!”

His voice was cold and harsh as the arctic winds. “I’m not sure I can trust you not to make any more headlines in a week. Perhaps I should start looking for a new assistant—”

“No!”

“Well then, you’d better prove your worth and try not to embarrass yourself, or me, further.”

Tears started to run down her face as the call ended. How could Robert think she’d been complacent to this? Sure, she’d allowed Altair to kiss her, but that had been for completely different reasons! Though, telling Robert that would probably lower his opinion of her even further. And what did he mean, financial leak? Did something slip under his radar again because she hadn’t been there to stem the tide of papers crossing his desk?

“Maria?”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Altair’s four-fingered hand reach out to touch her shoulder. Whirling around, she struck out at him, barely missing clocking him in that chiseled jaw. Hot, angry tears blurred his face as she started screaming, “This is all your fault! Two days I’ve been here, and already you’ve stolen my life!”

Before he could speak, she dashed into the house, muffled sobs and clinking heels the only sound to be heard in the suddenly dead-silent garden.

Altair stared after the crying woman. What should he do? He wasn’t used to tears, typically finding such strong displays of emotion pathetic. Al Mualim had brutally enforced that crying was the ultimate disgrace, that such weakness had no place in this house. He hadn’t even been permitted to cry when he lost his finger, and he’d been in such a state of shock during Kadar’s funeral he simply couldn’t let the tears fall. Yet Maria’s sobs echoed in his ears, her betrayed expression piercing him like a bullet.

And the worst part was, he had no idea how to fix it.

All he could do was stand there like a statue, useless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Looks around* So, who hates me right now? *Runs off along the rooftops into the night*


	6. Safety and Peace. And Anger. Lots of Anger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I considered making you all wait a little while longer, but as I got a day off, I decided to end your suffering early.  
> Also, because I got this question a lot; Altair and Maria's photos did not make the front page of the newspaper. They made the front page of the society and celebrity gossip section. They also made the front page of numerous trashy tabloids and gossip websites, and were probably trending on Twitter due to Altair's notoriety.

It was almost funny how intimidating a door had become. Altair had stood at Maria’s threshold, debating whether he should knock or just walk in. After about twenty minutes of hesitation, he’d decided he needed to give her some time to herself, so he’d slunk off to his office, tail tucked between his legs. Pacing the marble floor, he desperately wracked his brain to figure out how to make things right. He’d expected the photos of her saving him to make the paper, but how could he have missed the paparazzi at the park?

And now Maria was angry at him. Furious, even.

For what felt like the hundredth time he looked over the article. Front page of the society and celebrity gossip section, and by this point, they were sure to be all over celebrity blogs, trashy tabloid magazines, and more news outlets that needed something to publish in between actual news stories. Not unusual for him, but certainly a shock to someone like Maria.

Though she really did look beautiful in those photos. The one of her practically laying on top of him as she saved him from that speeding car was his favorite. A few hairs had escaped her neat braid, curling gently around her face as she looked down at him. He really appreciated how the photographer had managed to capture that flash of concern she’d shown him, and he admitted his own expression was one of awe and appreciation. Not bad for someone’s camera phone. If the article had just shown that, it probably wouldn’t have been such a big deal. Sure, they’d still question who she was and make speculations as to their relationship, but they wouldn’t overshadow her heroic act.

It was the other pictures that made him simultaneously aroused and angry. They were not as good as the street photo, clearly taken with a long-distance lens. Still, she looked beautiful, head thrown back as he laved her pale throat with kisses. Her pouting lips were slightly open, and she looked like she was enjoying his attentions. Had it not been causing him so much trouble, he’d get that one framed and enjoy lording her obvious pleasure over her.

The kiss looked good, too. They seemed to fit together perfectly, her chest pressed snugly against his torso, breeze molding her flowing sundress around her curves. You couldn’t even tell she’d been about to faint, though he wondered how there had been no mention of that in the article.  _Probably wanted to save that for the inevitable “break up” article,_  he thought sourly. He knew how the tabloids worked; they’d follow him and whatever woman he was with around, hoping to get enough material to make wild speculations over for the next week. Half the time, they were slightly misinformed, but the other half were blatant falsehoods.

And now, Maria was caught up in the paparazzi’s meddling. Not only that, but whatever de Sable had said to her couldn’t have been good. Clearly, he’d chewed her out over the phone, his bad mood likely stirred on by those financial reports leaking to the press. Thank Allah Maria didn’t know that was him.

He nearly slammed his fist into the wall in frustration. Why did every action he made end up affecting Maria? And why did he care so much? Yes, she was attractive, interesting, and he was growing to like her beyond just wanting to claim every inch of her, but she was supposed to be just another part of his quest for justice, or at least a pleasant distraction. Instead, he was feeling overwhelmed with guilt for something that had happened with plenty of women in the past. Most of them didn’t even care! Sure, a few had gotten upset when they’d ended up in the tabloids, but that that was usually because they were cheating on their boyfriends and were mad they’d gotten caught. He didn’t feel guilty about them in the slightest. Hell, some of the other women relished in the attention, insisting on being seen in public at every opportunity. In those cases, he was more annoyed that they were using him and were quickly kicked to the curb.

But Maria, ever the anomaly, had said she didn’t want to be the center of attention. The woman naturally drew the eye of every man she’d encountered, yet she rejected the spotlight. Instead, she hid behind her job and others, keeping things in order behind the scenes.

Maria wasn’t a woman who wore a mask; she wore armor, determined to conceal her true self for her own protection. And those pictures were forcibly stripping her of it.

Growling, he picked up the phone, dialing Rauf’s number.

“Get me the names of the writers, photographers, and anyone else involved in any and all papers, magazines, and websites that have run those photos. Once you have them, track each of them down and silence them in any way necessary!”

“You sure you want to do that?” Malik said from the door.

He glared at his friend, clenching the phone in a crushing grip. “I have no idea how to deal with a crying woman, Malik, but I need to do something. And if those photos are making her upset, then I need to have them wiped off the face of the earth.”

“I can guarantee that will make things worse.” Walking over to the desk, he pried the phone from Altair’s clenched fingers, placing it securely back down on the cradle.

“How? Maria’s been humiliated, and I demand justice.”

“You really are a novice. Try to look at the big picture. You’ve never had a problem being photographed with your paramours before. If you demand they take down these photos, it’ll simply feed their interest as to who Maria is. They’ll go after her like rabid hounds, hungry for what kind of scandal you’re trying to cover up. It will be a disaster.”

Slamming his hand on his desk, he growled, “Then what do you want me to do, Malik? I’ve got a crying woman upstairs who hates my guts. Please, bless me with your infinite wisdom as to how I should handle this situation!”

Malik stared at him in quiet contemplation. “You’ve really lost your head over her, haven’t you? It’s your own fault for refusing to be discreet. You can’t tell me that, on some level, you weren’t hoping de Sable would see you two in a compromising situation. You literally told me yesterday you would fuck her right in front of him if you could.”

Altair swallowed. He had said that, hadn’t he? He’d meant it, too. And maybe he did hope de Sable would find out, forced to do nothing but sit helplessly in London as he lured his precious secretary away from him. But that had been yesterday. Today, he wanted none of that. “Yes. I did want to send a message. But I never meant to hurt her.”

“You do realize she’s still a wild card, though? She seems a decent sort, brother, but her loyalty to de Sable makes her dangerous. Are you sure you can trust her?”

He shook his head irritably. “That doesn’t matter right now, Malik. She’s suffering from my foolishness, and I need to make things right.”

Malik sighed, patting his shoulder in awkward comfort. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the whole situation. He liked Maria; she was an admirable woman, not willing to tolerate Altair’s arrogance. But she was drastically affecting things in ways he didn’t like. At any other time, he’d be thrilled to see Altair humbled. But he was losing sight of the goal. Robert de Sable needed to be destroyed at all costs. Altair’s obsession with the secretary was causing unforeseen complications.

Malik didn’t want to see Maria hurt, either. But he’d waited too long for justice to be done. All his hard work and suffering couldn’t be for nothing. It might not bring back Kadar, or his arm, but vengeance was the only thing truly keeping him going anymore.

He needed to be sure Maria was worth all this trouble. For both the plan’s and Altair’s sake. If she wasn’t, he’d find a way to quietly remove her from the equation.

He and Altair both had blood on their hands. Collateral damage was sometimes inevitable. He hoped, for Maria’s sake, that it wouldn’t come to that.

XXX

Meanwhile, Maria lay on the bed, staring off into space for close to an hour. Ordinarily she wasn’t the crying sort, but the events of the morning, hell, of the past few days, had completely overwhelmed her. She wasn’t even sure what she was most upset about; the tabloid, Robert’s words, the accumulating stress, or that she had even cried at all. No, it was probably that she’s broken down in front of Altair of all people. Somehow, that was the most humiliating aspect of the morning.

Ever since childhood, when her parents had tried to force her to act like the perfect little girl, she’d hated being weak. Whereas most girls enjoyed playing with dollies, she preferred swords. When asked if she wanted to ride a pony, she demanded a horse. She’d never had a problem with other girls being feminine, though. In fact, many of the neighborhood girls liked how she’d volunteer to be the knight or prince in their games, ready to rescue them from whatever danger they’d come up with. As she got older, she found it difficult to give up that feeling of admiration the other girls bestowed upon her when she killed a spider or faced down a dragon. So, even after they grew out of their childish games, she’d remained the protector of her group of friends, standing up to bullies and defending anyone who needed help.

But her parents had been less understanding, sending her to all-girls schools to keep her from masculine influences and making her wear frilly dresses that even her most girly of friends agreed were completely impractical for doing anything but sitting still and doing needlework. She’d resisted in every way she could, from popping off her dollies’ heads to signing up for whatever sports her schools offered. But most of all, she refused to cry. Other girls cried all the time over scraped knees or mean words. Maria preferred to fight back.

A knock on the door broke her out of her melancholy thoughts.

“Maria?” came Altair’s voice. She glanced up to watch him cautiously stick his head through the door. “May I come in?”

Without a word, she turned over, sullenly presenting him her back.

Biting his lip, Altair stepped into the room.  _She didn’t say no,_  he justified, creeping quietly over to the bed. Gingerly sitting down on the mattress, he hesitated before gently touching her shoulder.

She jumped at the contact, having not even heard him approach. “I have nothing to say to you,” she muttered with as much venom as her tired voice could muster.

“Perhaps, but I wanted to tell you that I had nothing to do with those photos. I suspected there would be a picture of you saving me, what with all those people around, but I had no idea we’d been followed to the park.”

“It doesn’t matter. You stole my life.”

“I did no such thing. And it’s not as bad as it looks; I’ve been caught in far more compromising positions with more scandalous women than you. Within a few days, this will all blow over.”

“Maybe for you. But when I get home, I’ll have to endure the mocking and the stares of the whole office.”  _Assuming I even still have a job to return to,_  she thought bitterly. “If the rumors of me sleeping my way to the top had died down, they’ll be back in full swing now.”

“Then don’t go back. Find a new job.”

She glared at him out of the corner of her eye, but couldn’t muster up as much heat as she’d like. “Yes, because now that my face has been plastered over every trashy supermarket magazine, companies will be just begging to hire me.”

Running a hand through his hair, Altair said, “You’re upset. I understand that. But things aren’t nearly as terrible as you think.” Reaching into his wallet, he pulled out a shiny black credit card. “I figured you might want to get away from the mansion for a while, so I’m sending you into the city. I’ve already made reservations for you at the Talise Ottoman Spa.” To be honest, he’d wanted to take her horseback riding, hoping that her apparent interest in his prized steeds would soften her anger, but Malik had convinced him that she needed time away from him. “I own the hotel, and they’ve been given strict orders to not only treat you like a goddess, but to keep your identity and presence a complete secret.

“Afterwards, feel free to go shopping. This card should cover anything and everything you could want. Maybe you’ll be able to find some heels that fit?” he said, trying to joke. When she didn’t reply, he sighed. “At six call my driver. He will take you to the Ewaan Lounge, where we’ll have dinner at seven. Wear something nice; it’s a fancy place, and while I’m sure you’re tempted to show up in jeans and a tank top as a form of petty revenge, I’d hate for you to miss out on the chance to try some of the best Arabic and Oriental dishes in the city.”

Still, Maria refused to answer, glaring at the wall, mouth set in a furious pout.

Now, Altair was getting annoyed. “Are you seriously giving me the silent treatment? I’m trying to make things up to you; what more do you want?”

“You could always sign the contract,” she said irritably.

“Well, that’s not going to happen,” he snapped, jerking to his feet. Of course she’d bring up that damn contract. He should just burn the blasted thing. “Your boss is a vile, repulsive bastard. I honestly cannot understand your loyalty to that man. You constantly defend him, but what does he do when you’re the one in need of protecting?”

“Robert’s done more for me than any other man. Certainly more than you!” she snarled, finally turning to glare at him.

“And what, pray tell, has he done for you?”

“So far, he’s the only man who’s treated me with even an inkling of respect!” It was true. While other men of his status had looked down on her for her gender and position, he hadn’t cared, seeing her potential beyond just her pretty face.

“Then what did he say to you over the phone? Because you certainly didn’t look like someone who’d been spoken to respectfully.”

“Get out!” she screamed, pointing furiously at the door. “Get the fuck out of my room, and stay the fuck out of my life!”

For a full minute, the two simply stared at each other, eyes blazing, bodies stiff, chests heaving with deep, angry breaths. Finally, Altair turned away, grabbing her phone and programming something in.

“Get your hands off my phone,” Maria growled.

He tossed it onto the bed beside her next to the credit card. His face might as well have been made of stone for all the emotion he showed. Even his eyes were guarded now. “I’ve added my driver’s number. He’ll be at the entrance to bring you into the city in a half hour. Go to the spa, do some shopping, and meet me for dinner at seven sharp. We’ll continue this conversation when we’ve both had time to cool down. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

With that, he strolled out of the room, though the rigid set of his shoulders told her he was not nearly as calm as he pretended to be.

Letting out a harsh breath, Maria collapsed back onto the bed. Gingerly, she picked up the credit card he’d given her, holding it above her head in contemplation. She had two choices; stay in her room all day, stewing in her anger, or take Altair’s offer to get away from him and the mansion for a bit. Logic told her to accept the gesture for the shoddy peace offering it was and indulge herself, even if her first instinct was to throw his bloody credit card back in his face. Anyway, the spa wasn’t the worst thing he could have sent her to; she was already feeling drained from crying, and her muscles would likely appreciate a massage and a hot bath after the unfamiliar strain her parkour excursion had put on them.

Her eyes fell to her laptop on the desk. She hadn’t checked her emails this morning. Certainly, work had piled up after her unexpected adventure yesterday, plus that morning’s drama.

 _Perhaps I should get myself a new assistant,_  Robert’s cold words shuddered through her.

She tore her gaze from the laptop and grabbed her shoes. Work would just remind her of what a disappointment she was. Getting out of the house was not a terrible idea. Much as she hated accepting anything from Altair, she knew that sometimes the best battle strategies involved retreating and regrouping. She needed time to think, to go over her options and make a new plan.

XXX

The [Talise Ottoman Spa](https://www.jumeirah.com/en/hotels-resorts/dubai/jumeirah-zabeel-saray/spa/talise-ottoman-spa/) was certainly the most luxurious spa she’d ever laid eyes on. Not that she’d frequented such places, but she’d seen pictures. The entrance hall alone was beyond belief, mirrored walls reflecting the light of tiny, hanging lanterns throughout the space, white pillars juxtaposing the polished, black marble floor. She felt like she was in the entrance way to see the Wizard in the Emerald City, with its grand and intimidating beauty.

Cautiously walking up to the main desk, she continued to look around in awe. High, domed ceilings and walls sported elaborate tile mosaics. Whites, reds, and golds were the primary colors, though the pool sitting in the center of the main floor glowed an inviting blue. Chandeliers and fountains decorated the many rooms, and the curtains, plush furniture, and warm lighting gave the whole place a grand and alluring feel. It felt more like a palace than a hotel spa, and she could almost feel some of her tension leave just by stepping inside.

A young and lovely woman greeted her, smiling serenely. “Miss Thorpe, yes?” She had mocha skin and ebony hair, yet her eyes were a dazzling hazel. Her smile was as soft and pleasant as her beautifully accented voice, and it made perfect sense why such a woman would work in a spa. She certainly seemed to be the sort who could set people at ease.

“That’s me.”

“My name is Amina. Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad has informed us that you’re to have any treatments and amenities you desire.”

Maria forced a smile. Even if he was the one paying for all this, she really didn’t want to think about Altair right now. “Thank you. I could certainly use a massage, but I’m not quite sure what kind of treatments you offer. I don’t often bother with these sorts of things.”

Amina led her further into the spa, and Maria continued to marvel at the beauty of the place. Who designed it? It looked like something an artist dreamed up after being told he could do whatever he wanted with unlimited money and resources. It was certainly sumptuous, with soft music floating through the air, and the sweet smell of essential oils tickling her nose.

“Really? Is this your first time at a spa?” Her smile remained firmly in place, but Maria could hear the hint of surprise in her tone.

She suddenly felt embarrassed. Of course this woman would be used to clients who knew exactly what they wanted. She looked around, noting the smattering of people lounging about looked like the sort that came from money. Clearly, they were more than familiar with the spa. She lowered her voice, not wanting to draw attention to herself. She was completely out of her element, and was certain the other clients could sense she was an outsider. “I’m afraid so. I lead a rather busy life, and any free time I usually spend in the gym or horseback riding.” Perhaps this wasn’t such a great idea. Surely, she could just soak her sore muscles in the tub back in her room, right? A little Epsom salt, a scented candle, and she’d be fine.

“We have many things you might enjoy,” Amina said kindly. She wasn’t used to clients who didn’t attend spas, but she found herself looking forward to introducing the beautiful Englishwoman to the joy of pampering. “We have saunas, tubs, and massages, which I highly recommend for someone like yourself.” She brought her to a private room, parting the heavy curtain barrier and escorting her inside. “Please, get changed. I’ll bring you a list of what we offer, and help you decide. If this is your first time, I want to make sure you enjoy yourself.”

Maria’s grin was a little more genuine this time. “Thank you. I appreciate the guidance.”

Amina left the room, and Maria stripped down to her knickers, slipping the soft cotton robe over her shoulders. She was still a bit uncomfortable with the whole situation, but at least she hadn’t ended up with some snooty attendant who would silently judge her. Given the looks of the people they’d passed, she was probably more used to serving the crème de la crème of high society.

At least she had the room to herself. Settling down onto one of the deep purple couches, she assumed the luxurious chamber was reserved specifically for Altair. There was a large, sunken tub steaming pleasantly in the middle of the floor. Crystal chandeliers and golden lamps cast a warm glow, and the heavy curtains both ensured privacy and muffled any outside noise. Altair apparently settled for nothing less than VIP treatment. How many other women did he take here? She shook her head furiously. Spas were meant for relaxation, and thinking about the arrogant, manipulative billionaire was anything but.

Thankfully, she was distracted from her irritation by Amina’s return.

“Alright Miss Thorpe, let us see what we can do to you.”

“I supposed I’m at your mercy,” she joked weakly.

Her attendant smiled indulgently. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you leave here feeling relaxed and pampered,” she said, sitting down beside her. “Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad informed me that you are to be kept from the other guests as much as possible.”

Maria frowned, mood souring. “Oh he did, did he? Afraid I’ll tell people what an arse he is?” she asked angrily. When Amina stared at her in shock, Maria deflated a bit. “I apologize. He and I had a bit of a…disagreement this morning. I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”

Amina shook her head, eyes still wide. “No, it’s me who should apologize. English is not my first language, and I still have trouble phrasing things.” She thought for a moment. “He said you were to be given privacy, and to not let other guests bother you. He even said that if anyone other than he or Mr. al-Sayf were to ask for you, you were never here. Everyone has been sworn to complete confidentiality.”

Taking a cleansing breath, she nodded. She was still angry, but it seemed Altair was upholding his promise of granting her some semblance of peace. “Fair enough. Again, I’m sorry for snapping. Let’s get back on track. Why don’t you tell me what you’d recommend for treatments?”

For the next twenty minutes, they went over the list, Amina describing the various facials, massages, and amenities to choose from. All of them sounded luxurious, but a few seemed excessive, even for a place like this.

“A 24-karat gold chain mail facial? How does that even work?” Maria asked, flabbergasted.

Amina laughed good-naturedly. “It’s quite exclusive. Wrinkles form from a lack of collagen in the skin, and gold has been shown to slow down collagen depletion and conduct ions to stimulate cellular growth.”

“Ok, but why chainmail?”

She shrugged. “I have no idea. But who am I to question the tastes of my clients?”

“I think I’ll pass. If I ever wore chainmail, I doubt it would be gold.”

Eventually, Maria settled on the Sultan’s Massage, Diamond and Rose Ritual body treatment, and Luxurious Rose facial. They all sounded almost absurdly opulent, but as Amina pointed out, if she’s getting treated to a luxury spa, she might as well take advantage of it.

Stripping off the robe and laying down on the massage table, she sighed as Amina started kneading her tense muscles, rubbing warm, rose-scented oil along her back. The therapist’s hands felt very good, and she was enjoying the steady increase of pressure she applied to her back and shoulders.

“You must have a very stressful job,” Amina said, pressing down on a knot in her neck.

Maria gave a small grunt at the sensation but otherwise didn’t mind as the muscles were slowly loosened. “Yes. I’m the executive assistant to the head of a medical research company. It’s my job to make sure my boss can put his focus onto important tasks instead of being overwhelmed with a thousand little issues coming at him at once.”

“I see. How do you know Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad?”

“He’s a client.”

“Not a lover?”

Maria snorted. “He wishes.”

She could hear a smile in her voice. “He certainly must. He comes here quite often, but rarely brings women, much less sends them here alone.” Slowly, she started working down her back, releasing pockets of stress from the muscles. “You said you disagreed on something?”

“We disagree on many things. But right now, it’s about how he’s ruining my life.”

Amina paused. “He ruined your life?”

Sighing, Maria pressed her cheek to the soft pillow beneath her. “Well, perhaps not all of it, but he’s certainly done a number on my reputation, and my job’s in jeopardy.”

Kneading the muscles of her calves, the therapist was silent for a few moments before finally saying, “I thought you looked familiar. You’re the woman from the photos, aren’t you?” When Maria’s only response was to groan and bury her head in the pillow, she shook her head. “I saw you saved his life. Why would that cause a problem?”

“Clearly, you saw an article that didn’t have the photos of him kissing me,” the Englishwoman responded crisply, though her voice was muffled by the pillow.

“No, I saw those. You looked to be enjoying yourself.”

“I’d really rather not discuss that.”

She shrugged, once again working upward towards her back. Maria’s spine gave a satisfying pop under firm hands, and she gave a little moan as the slight pain gave way to relief and pleasure. Amina chuckled. She was getting the feeling that Maria hadn’t even realized how tense she was. “Do you fence?”

Maria looked up from the table. “How can you tell?”

“You have some of the same knots as Mr. al-Sayf. He comes in for massages quite often. He says it’s really stress from dealing with Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad, but I think he just doesn’t like to admit that he cares about him.”

Unbidden, a chuckle escaped her. “Yes, those two do seem to bicker like an old married couple.”

“Both are very proud, strong men. That sort like to pretend they don’t feel, but care the most for the ones they love.”

Crewing on her lip, Maria said, “I’m sure there are those Altair cares deeply for, but he’s certainly gone out of his way to annoy me since I’ve gotten here.”

“Yet he sent you here, to the spa he designed himself.”

That was certainly unexpected news. “He designed it?”

“Yes. It’s often forgotten amongst his other skills, but he’s quite an artist. Mr. al-Sayf handled the architecture, but everything else was Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad. I think he’s trying to impress you.”

“He’s showing off.”

She laughed. “I’m sure he’s doing a bit of that, too, but like I said, he rarely brings his lovers here. You must be special.” Wiping off her hands, Amina turned to the pool and started scattering rose petals on top of the water. “We’ll start the facial and body treatments after you’ve had a chance to soak in the pool. I’ll bring you something to eat while you relax.”

Maria gingerly sat up. Her muscles were tender from the deep massage, but she already felt looser. “Oh, there’s no need—”

“Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad insisted you be treated to every luxury, and so you shall. Besides, it’s almost lunchtime; you don’t want a growling stomach to disrupt your meditation, do you?”

Honestly, she couldn’t really argue with that, so Amina set off to get food while Maria slipped off her underwear, feeling a little self-conscious even in such a private place. If she ever came to a place like this again, she’d remember to bring a bathing suit. Wrapping a towel around herself, she slowly stepped into the sunken tub. The temperature was quite hot, but not uncomfortably so, and she moaned as she sank into the steaming waters.

 _This doesn’t make up for what an arse he’s been,_  Maria thought,  _but I suppose I have to give credit where it’s due. The man knows how to spoil himself._

Leaning back, she breathed in the relaxing steam and scent of roses as Amina slipped back in, setting down a tray of strawberries, chocolate dip, champagne, baklava, hummus, and a few other assorted treats to nibble on. “There you go, Miss Thorpe. I’ll leave you alone to relax, then we’ll start the other treatments. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call for me.”

Murmuring her thanks, Maria sank further into the pool until the water reached her chin, listening to Amina’s soft footsteps leave the room. Well and truly alone, Maria found her mind wandering.

She was still angry at Altair, but now that she’d calmed down, she could admit that the photos probably weren’t entirely his fault. He was a famous face, after all, and was used to being photographed to the point where he hardly even noticed it. But she wasn’t, and he needed to accept that his actions affected the people around him. And a trip to the spa didn’t change the fact that everything he’d done up to that point had been selfish, with the end goal of getting her into bed. It didn’t matter how many pretty dresses or fancy massages he threw at her, he made it very clear that he was interested in her body above all else.

But despite the anger she also felt curiosity, an urge to get to know the man she caught glimpses of when he let his guard down. Or was that an act? Was he the cold, ruthless businessman Robert had initially warned her of or the arrogant playboy? What about when he’d lifted her out of the parkour pit? He’d looked genuinely proud of her without a hint of lust. And then there was the sincerity in his voice when he told her she could get any job she wanted. She really had no idea who the real Altair was.

She was also starting to wonder about Robert. She’d thought she knew her boss, had believed in his cause, but Altair’s cutting comments and his own cruel statements were causing her once unshakable loyalty to falter. She wanted to believe he was just under a lot of stress, that the troubles the company had been facing since Clay’s death were simply getting to be too much, and if she could just ease his workload, could bring in the right clients, everything would be ok. He’d go back to the man she respected, who trusted her, asked her opinion on contracts and regaled her with stories meeting brilliant minds and how Project Eden would revolutionize the world. But those niggling doubts had been getting harder to ignore since she’d gotten to Dubai, and his harsh accusations had been completely uncalled for.

She told herself that she’d gotten over her crush on her boss, that she simply respected and admired him, but sometimes it still felt like she was that foolish girl from her first year. There were times when he’d touch her arm, or gently push a lock of hair behind her ear, and her heart would skip a bear or her breath would catch for a moment. At first, she’d tried to go on dates in hopes of removing those feelings for him, but with the stress of her job and her relative inexperience with men, relationships had been hard to come by. After a while, even finding someone to go out with had become next to impossible. The men at work were out of the question. She’d grown distant from most of her old friends, so she couldn’t ask them to set her up. She distrusted online dating, as it was far too easy to lie on a profile. And going out to bars required having time and energy to get dressed up; plus she couldn’t risk showing up to work hungover. Though, after the drunken night with Robert, she’d rather not risk making another mistake.

Speaking of mistakes, as the water gently swirled around her, she found herself recalling how Robert had set her up on the last date she’d gone on. It was probably a little more than a month before she met Clay. Somehow, she and Robert had started discussing the troubles of balancing work and life, and she’d found herself complaining about her lack of dating life.

_It was late, but Maria and Robert had remained in his office, taking a break from the piles of financial reports and research funding requests. With a sigh, Maria leaned back in her chair, rubbing the back of her neck in an attempt to loosen the knot that was forming there._

_“I know balancing both a social life and career can be difficult, Maria, but certainly a beautiful, intelligent woman like you must have a few gentlemen callers?” he’d asked, sipping his coffee. He made a face at the taste, and Maria got up to make a new pot; his current cup was probably cold, and she could certainly use a caffeine boost._

_“Unfortunately, sir, finding anything close to a gentleman in this day and age is next to impossible,” she quipped, trying to keep her tone light, even as she felt a twinge of embarrassment at discussing her shoddy love life with her boss._

_“But surely you had plenty of sweethearts in school?”_

_She gave a rueful smile as she prepared the coffee grinder. Robert hated pre-ground beans, saying the flavor was lacking in the standard supermarket brands. Frankly, she didn’t care all that much; coffee was coffee, as far as she was concerned. Add in a little milk and sugar, and it was barely noticeable. “My parents insisted on sending me to all-girls schools throughout my educational years, hoping to rid me of my tomboy ways. And dating was out of the question, unless it was a man they chose for me.”_

_“And did they?” he asked curiously._

_“They tried to set me up with a man named Peter, once,” she replied, turning to lean against the table as the water boiled. “He was a lovely man, Peter, but that was all. He didn’t embrace my interests, and I found him rather boring. We broke things off fairly amicably, though Father was displeased; Peter was quite well-off, and Father had been eager to get access to his wealth.”_

_A small smile touched his lips. “Ah. I suppose finding your Prince Charming does get rather difficult, under such circumstances.”_

_“At this point, I’d settle for a man who isn’t a total pig. Unfortunately, those sorts are snatched up quickly, or otherwise unavailable. Add in my busy schedule and shallow dating pool, and my social life is rather barren.”_

_“So this is my fault.”_

_She stood up straight, alarmed. “What? Oh, no sir! I didn’t mean it like that!”_

_He shook his head, raising a dismissive hand. “No, I do bear some responsibility. I know I work you hard,” Maria swallowed, recalling a whispered comment from one of the women in the break room about how_ hard _the two must be working when he kept her late like this, “but you’re young, and you deserve to experience a night out with a man of quality.” Thinking for a moment, he pulled out his phone and checked something. “An old colleague of mine, Armand Bouchart, is going to be in town next week. He, too, has been having some trouble finding a decent woman. Perhaps I could set you two up?”_

_Maria blanched. It was a considerate gesture, but did she really want to be set up on a date by her boss? “Sir, you don’t have to trouble yourself. Really, it’s fine.”_

_He dismissed her protests. “Nonsense. If nothing else, you deserve a night on the town. Consider it my reward for staying so late to help me finish all this work.”_

_“You really don’t—”_

_“I insist.” He gave her a smile. “Women like you are rare, Maria. A man who’s lucky enough to have you in his life would do well to keep you by his side.”_

_Blushing at his praise, she reluctantly agreed. If Robert wanted to do this for her, how could she refuse? Besides, if he’d chosen her date, surely he was someone worth meeting. Robert only surrounded himself with the best and the brightest; this Armand Bouchart had to be a man of quality._

She furiously shook herself out of that memory. That date had been an utter disaster, and then with Clay and Project Eden, she’d decided to swear off men for a while. Her job needed her full focus, and if there wasn’t anyone worthwhile out there for her, what was the point of worrying about it?

The past few days with Altair had thrown all that for a loop, however. Despite the anger and annoyance, she hated to admit that, along with physical attraction, she did, on occasion, have fun with him. The parkour course had been exhilarating, and his excitement in telling her about his home city and the Burj Khalifa was endearing. She supposed he deserved another chance since he was trying to apologize, in his incredibly heavy-handed way.

Amina walked back into the room, and she found herself smirking. Perhaps she shouldn’t be too mad about the photos, but a little revenge was still in order for everything else he’d put her through. She turned to her attendant.

“Amina, you wouldn’t happen to have any advice for a lady with a billionaire’s credit card and a desire for a night on the town, would you?”

The woman blinked in surprise, then grinned deviously. “I might have a few suggestions.”

XXX

Maria was late. He told her not to be late. Altair growled and looked at his watch. Forty-five minutes late, in fact. A woman as poised and professional as her should know better than to keep a potential business partner waiting for almost an hour.

He’d planned it all out. They’d meet for dinner, and while she’d probably still be angry at him, she’d be too caught up with the beautiful scenery and exquisite smell lingering throughout the restaurant. After they’d filled her plates with exotic foods, he’d apologize properly, making sure she knew that he’d truly had no intention of embarrassing her, and would not allow the paparazzi to bother her ever again. He’d brought a bouquet of flowers, too, white Casablanca lilies, in hopes of proving he was being sincere. Unfortunately, all these plans were useless if she didn’t show up.

Just as his patience was coming to an end, the phone rang, his driver’s number lighting up the screen.

 **“There had better be a good reason why you’re so late,”**  he snarled.

His driver hesitated before answering,  **“I’m sorry, sir. It’s just that Miss Thorpe never called me, and I haven’t seen her since I dropped her off at the spa.”**

Altair leaped out of his chair.  **“What?!”**

**“I attempted to contact the staff there to enquire as to her whereabouts, but they claimed to have no idea who I was talking about. I tried to explain I was your driver and she had an appointment with you, and that I was even the person who brought her there in the first place, but they still claimed to have no memory of her.”**

Fists clenched tightly. Of course they claimed not to know who she was. Those had been his orders, hadn’t they? Only he and Malik were to be given her information. That minx had used it to her advantage and run off somewhere.

In any other circumstances, he’d admire her cleverness. How often had he done the same to escape the confines of his upbringing?  _Use your enemies’ words against them_  had been one of Al Mualim’s more useful lessons, and the old man hadn’t been able to beat him too badly for simply doing as he’d taught.

Sighing harshly, Altair assured the driver that he had done no wrong, and hung up to call the spa instead. He’d simply have to do things himself.

 **“Talise Ottoman Spa,”** a pleasant voice answered.

 **“This is Altair Ibn-La’Ahad,”** he said as calmly as he could. **“I’d like to know where Maria Thorpe is, please.”**

**“What is the code phrase?”**

**“Safety and peace.”**

**“One moment, please.”**

He held back a growl, but thankfully his patience wasn’t tried further as a soft voice answered, **“What can I do for you, Mr. Ibn-La-Ahad?”**

**“I’d like to know where my guest is, Amina.”**

He could hear a giggle in her voice. **“She went shopping, I believe. I gave her some advice on some decent shoe stores nearby, and she sked if there were any fast food places she could get dinner after her appointment at the hair and nail salon.”**

**“Fast food?!”**

Amina’s laughter stopped at his tone. **“Y—yes sir. She said she was tired of all this fancy stuff, and wanted nothing more than a burger.”**

For a moment, Altair saw red. A burger. A fucking burger. There he was, waiting for her at an exclusive restaurant that served some of the finest Middle-Eastern fare in Dubai, and she stood him up for a  _burger?!_  He didn’t bother to thank Amina for her help or reprimand her for being Maria’s accomplice before hanging up, immediately calling Rauf.

“I want you to track the purchases on the credit card I gave Maria.”

Rauf paused at the barely restrained anger in Altair’s voice. “Is everything okay, sir?”

“No, Rauf, it’s not. She’s run off, and I want to know  _exactly_  where she is.”

“Well, according to the bank records, she bought some shoes and a dress at a boutique downtown, then paid for an appointment at a beauty salon, but that was a couple of hours ago.”

“What about dinner? Are there any purchases made from Burger King or whatnot?” he spat out.

“Nope. Just clothes and shoes around four o’clock. Should I send out a search party?”

“Yes. Track the GPS on her phone. I want to know where she is NOW!” Storming out of the restaurant, Altair ignored the curious and frightened looks he was attracting. Maria had run off. He’d wanted to apologize, and she’d run off into the night to have a fucking burger. He’d find her, bring her home, and when they got there, he’d turn her over his knee if he needed to. Maybe tie her to the bed so she couldn’t run off again, and they could talk without interruptions. And then he’d enjoy showing her why women didn’t typically stand him up when he invited them to dinner. A pleasant shiver broke through his anger. She had no idea who she was dealing with.

XXX

Luckily for Maria, it was Malik who found her first, on the other side of downtown Dubai. The one-armed businessman had been in the city picking out his own costume for Ezio’s party, and Rauf had called him up, informing him of the situation and giving her location. Apparently, the bodyguard was a bit worried about Altair’s mood and wanted Malik to interfere before the two volatile personalities clashed.

So, there he was, in the middle of a Burger King, watching Maria devour a Whopper with gusto. She had several shopping bags at her feet, and he had to admit she was dressed to kill. A sexy black halter dress made her stand out against the gaudy plastic tables and vinyl seats of the dining room. Her hair was curled and swept to the side, English features enhanced by dramatic smoky makeup and dark red lipstick. Her nails were painted gold, and her strappy gold heels made her amazing legs look even longer. Even over the scent of greasy fast food he could smell the rose oils and lotions she’d clearly been pampered with at the spa. She couldn’t have been more out of place if she tried.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” he said as he approached. “You don’t seem the sort to indulge in fatty foods.”

Swallowing her bite of burger, she rolled her eyes. “I’m not, but after the stress of the past few days, I figured I could risk one burger. Besides, I didn’t want to waste time waiting around for my food.” She took another bite. “How’d you find me? I figured Altair would track the credit card, so I used my own money for the taxi and food.”

Knowing better than to reveal that Rauf had put a tracer on her phone, he held up his shopping bag. “I was in the area and spotted you through the window. It was luck, really.”

“I believe maybe half that statement, but whatever. You can join me if you like.”

Smirking slightly, Malik took the seat across from her and stole a fry. “Altair’s been going crazy looking for you. Apparently, standing him up was quite the blow to his pride.”

“Good. He could stand getting knocked off his high horse once in a while. The man’s the definition of hubris.”

“I won’t argue with that. He’s not as bad as he used to be, but he still forgets that not everyone will bow to his whims.” Munching another fry, he eyed her attire. “What’s with the outfit?”

“I was thinking of going dancing after this. It’s been a while since I’ve gone out, and I might as well experience the nightlife if the tabloids are going to call me a hussy.”

“I’m sure they didn’t actually use that word.”

“No, but they implied it. I read a few of them while at the spa. They asked how long I’d last compared to Altair’s other lovers, and what someone like me must have done to get into his bed. That screams ‘hussy’ to me.”

“Just ignore them. Surely you’re not the sort to fret over what others think?”

“When it affects my job, I most certainly do. If I didn’t have to care, I would have kicked your boss in the head and gotten on the first plane back to London. And probably give my own boss a few knocks as well,” she grumbled, taking a gulp of her milkshake.

He allowed himself to smirk. “I agree, he does have a face that simply screams to be hit. Altair's, too. The women seem to love it, though.”

She ignored the slight to her boss, not in the mood to pick that fight. “I’m sure they do.”

“Not you, though?”

“I’m not blind, Malik. Even a lesbian would have to admit he’s handsome.”

“Ah. I hadn’t realized that was the issue. Well, Dubai has some lovely women if you’d like me to—”

Maria blanched, cheeks coloring slightly as she realized what she’d implied. “What? Oh, no! No, I like men. It’s just that I don’t like mixing business with pleasure.”

“So, if you weren’t here on business, you’d sleep with him?”

She sighed, idly playing with a French fry. “To be honest, had we met in different circumstances, I wouldn’t have minded indulging in a single night. But I intend to make this deal go through, and if I do that, I don’t want my reputation being marred by rumors that I slept my way to the top. I already endure enough of those assumptions simply because I’m Robert’s executive assistant.”

“Yes, I heard about your first meeting with Altair. I’ve told him many times that secretaries are not whores, but it’s like talking to a brick wall. A brick wall that people still want to fuck.”

Laughter bubbled up in her unbidden, and she had to clasp a hand over her mouth, as people had started staring at her. She glanced at the solemn man, only to find him chuckling, too. “I’ll have to remember that analogy.”

Composing himself, he gave her a serious look. “You mentioned indulging in a single night. You aren’t interested in relationships?”

“I’d love to have something long-term. Someone to come home to after a long day and simply relax with, whom I could vent to or have long, soul-searching conversations with.” She sighed wistfully. “But I could never have that with someone like Altair.”

“You think he has no desire for such things?” Malik was suddenly pleased Rauf had asked him to find Maria before Altair. Perhaps this was the opportunity he needed to gain the insight he needed.

“I mean that I need a man who’s my equal; no more, no less. I couldn’t stand to be with a man who doesn’t put in the same amount of effort, nor do I want someone for whom I’d have to give up everything I’ve worked for.”

“You speak from experience.”

Her smile was bitter. “It almost happened. Once. But I would have had to give up my job, and I refuse to be the sort of woman who abandons years of fighting and hard work for something that may not even last.”

Malik smiled. Her words were logical and honest, and put him at ease enough to share some rather sensitive information. “Maria, you know that my brother died eight years ago.”

Surprised at the sudden shift of topic, she nodded. “Yes. Altair hasn’t said much about him, but I got the impression he was important to you both.”

“He was. Al Mualim was not a kind mentor. He adopted us, but he treated us more as soldiers and pawns, not sons.” His eyes grew distant as he recalled their childhood. “All three of us had lost our families, and he’d made it clear that if we didn’t meet his expectations, he’d throw us out onto the streets. Anything we loved could be taken away. Sometimes, he’d lock us in the basement for days with barely any food or water, just to show us how ‘grateful’ we should be to him.”

“That’s horrible!”

“It was. We were isolated, not allowed to be around other children. The staff feared showing us any kindness, as he was more than willing to punish them, too. Only Rauf was brave enough to defy his orders, but that was only when the old bastard was away.” His one hand clenched unconsciously. “He encouraged us to hate each other. Altair and I were always at each other’s throats, fighting to see who was better, who would be punished less. But Kadar had it the worst. Al Mualim would usually ignore him, but he took sick delight in making him choose between me and Altair.”

Maria stared at him. She had no idea he and Altair had endured so much. It was definitely putting a new spin on how Altair acted. “So, I’m guessing that made showing things like affection a bit difficult in your adult years.”

“To put it mildly. His treatment made us protective of that which we cared about, and he taught us if we wanted something, we had to take it by any means necessary. When the things we valued could be taken away at any moment, it made us more possessive and less trusting. It’s made normal human connections next to impossible for him. He, too, fears that which he wants most won’t last, so he indulges in the fleeting pleasures of life rather than risk losing something else.”

“So he’s got a reason to be such an arsehole. Great.” She caught a glance of Malik’s eyebrows furrowing, and she bit her lip. “I’m sorry. For all the crap I give about him insulting Robert, I shouldn’t badmouth your boss to you. Especially after what you’ve been through together.”

Malik’s face relaxed and he chuckled. “If it helps, I’ve probably called him worse to his face.”

“How did you two settle your differences?”

He touched his missing arm gingerly. “Nearly dying tends to change your perspective on a lot of things.”

And like that, he was back in the hospital.

_The bright lights were blinding against the stark infirmary walls. The steady beep of machines droned on, a constant reminder of where he was. Of what he had lost._

_His arm was gone. His brother was dead. His promising fencing career was over, and he’d have to endure the rest of his life as a cripple. He could still work at Creed International, but what was the point? Al Mualim hadn’t bothered to visit him since the surgery. Clearly, the old bastard had little regard for his now crippled adopted son. He’d instate Altair as his heir, and Malik would be forced to watch the irresponsible novice succumb to the pressures of the job, becoming no more than their mentor’s puppet. They were both trapped, and now he didn’t even have sweet, laughing Kadar to ease his suffering._

_**“You should eat something.”** _

_Malik didn’t even turn his head to acknowledge his visitor. **“I’m not hungry.”**_

_Altair sat down by the bed, eyeing the tray. There was jello, a cheese sandwich, and some browning sliced apples, but nothing truly objectionable. **“We’ve eaten worse.”**_

_**“That doesn’t mean I want to eat.”** _

_**“You need to get your strength back.”** _

_He snorted **. “For what? Al Mualim doesn’t need me. He’s got you. His prized student, perfect and whole.”**_

_He saw Altair duck his head out of the corner of his eye. **“I’m sorry. It should have been me.”**_

_**“Yes it should have!”** He finally turned to look at his adopted brother, rage surging through his veins. **“If you hadn’t ditched out on your duties to be with that harlot, I wouldn’t have been sent in your place! And if I hadn’t gone, Kadar wouldn’t have been in the car, either! He’d have been safe at home, and the world would have been rid of your idiocy!”** His brother would be safe, not mutilated by steel and glass from shielding his big brother from the impact. Stupid, noble Kadar._

_Altair didn’t look up. **“You’re right. I should have been the one in the car. The driver was counting on it.”**_

_Malik stared at him. **“What?”**_

_**“I had Rauf track down the driver. He was being held in jail on a DUI charge, but Rauf had him brought to a new location. One where I could question him.”** Slowly, Altair lifted his head to meet Malik’s gaze. His golden eyes were hard and cold, like yellow diamonds. **“It was no accident.”**_

_**“What do you mean? He was drunk and crashed right into us.”** _

_**“He had alcohol in his system, but not enough to impair him. The man was completely coherent. Rauf did some digging. There’s a sizable money transfer to his checking account from a company called Abstergo.”** _

_**“So?”** _

_**“So, I got curious and dug further. That company doesn’t exist. It’s a shell company for a man named Abu'l Nuqoud. Who happens to be a partner of Robert de Sable.”** _

_Malik stared at him, wide-eyed. His blood turned to ice. **“You can’t mean…”**_

_**“Yes. This wasn’t an accident. It was a hit. One meant for me, as a message to Al Mualim. Remember how the old bastard tried to hire someone to sabotage his research a few months back?”** _

_**“Yes. It failed. He got the funding he needed, and Templar Industries is now leading the way in genetic memory research.”** _

_**“Well, apparently de Sable found out and decided to retaliate. And you can bet Al Mualim will now plan revenge in turn.”** _

_Malik’s remaining fist clenched so hard he could feel his nails break the skin of his palm. Blood dripped between his fingers onto the crisp white sheets. **“So, this was all because of them? Kadar’s dead because of their feud?”**_

_**“Yes. Rauf confirmed it before taking the driver’s life.”** _

_Malik saw red. Caring, foolish Kadar was dead. Not because of an act of god, or a drunken accident, but because of two arrogant monsters who didn’t care who suffered so long as they got what they wanted. Robert de Sable had always been an ass, and anyone who associated with Al Mualim had dark secrets, but now, knowing that he’d sent a hit on someone, despite his former partner’s failure to ruin his plans?_

_It sickened him._

_They both sickened him._

_Turning back to Altair, he eyed the man suspiciously. **“You seem rather calm about this.”**_

_Anger flashed through his eyes, and Malik suddenly regretted saying anything. Clearly, the revelation was hitting Altair harder than he’d thought. **“Don’t think because I’m not getting upset that I’m not angry. I am. But I’ve also been thinking.”**_

_**“Oh, so the Novice has a plan?”** he mocked half-heartedly. He was still put off by that look. Altair got angry, yes, but it was never the cold, icy fury that he saw in those eyes._

_**“I do. But I’ll need your help.”** _

_He gave his severed arm a sad look. **“I’m of no use to you like this.”**_

_**“Did your left arm contain your brain?”** A harsh sigh escaped his lips. **“You’ve always been smarter than me, Malik. These past few days, I’ve been forced to consider my future. Al Mualim needs to be removed from his position of power. And de Sable needs to pay for what he’s done. So, I’ve decided to take over Creed International.”**_

_**“Al Mualim will never step down. And even if he did, he’d try to influence things from behind the scenes. He’s too dangerous.”** _

_**“Then we remove him from the equation altogether.”** _

_**“You mean to kill him.”** _

_**“Yes.”** _

_**“Are you insane?!”** Malik shouted. He was suddenly grateful the door was closed. If anyone overheard, Al Mualim would have both their heads. Literally. **“Even if you did manage to get away with killing him, you’d still need to run the company. And then what about de Sable?”**_

_**“I’ve been fantasizing about killing Al Mualim for years. How to make it look like an accident, my alibi, the appropriate response to avoid suspicion; every little detail. Don’t tell me you haven’t been thinking of it, too. Together, we could take him out and not raise so much as an eyebrow. Together, we could run the company, make it better than a man like Al Mualim could have ever dreamed. And then, we’ll destroy de Sable.”** His cold eyes flashed again with fire and hate, though his face and voice remained even. **“It’s the perfect revenge; Al Mualim won’t be able to control us anymore, and if there is a god, he’ll be forced to watch from Hell as we turn the company into something respectable without his influence.”**_

_**“And de Sable?”** _

_Altair’s grin was fierce and bloodthirsty._

_**“We’ll wait. We’ll plan. We’ll let him think he got away. Then, we’ll destroy everything he has.”** _

_Malik stared at the man before him. This new side of Altair scared him a little, but he was right. Kadar was dead. Nothing could bring him back. But he could certainly avenge him._

_Altair got up to go, but his expression softened. **“Malik, I can’t apologize enough for what happened. You lost your arm because of me. Lost Kadar. You have every right to hate me. I’m sorry.”**_

_**“I don’t accept your apology.”** His face seemed to fall a little bit, and Malik continued, **“I can’t accept, because you’re not the same man I knew. And so**_ **you _have nothing to apologize for.”_**

_His adoptive brother smiled slightly, and Malik reached for the tray of food. Altair was right. He needed his strength back. He needed to get out of this hospital and start putting their plan into action._

“Malik? Are you ok?”

Maria’s voice broke him from his thoughts, and he hurriedly waved her off. “Altair was the first person I saw when I work up. Not Al Mualim, who raised me. Not Rauf, who was always at my side. Altair, my selfish, arrogant, adopted brother, was asleep in a plastic hospital chair by my bed. According to the nurses, he’d been there for almost 72 hours, since the emergency surgery that saved my life.” He forced a smile. “He convinced me to keep going, to not let Kadar’s death be in vain. To cease our foolish rivalry and help him lead Creed International.”

Finished with her burger, she wiped her greasy fingers on a napkin, a look of contemplation on her face. Malik found the way it made her forehead wrinkle oddly endearing. “I’m glad you’ve developed such a close friendship. But I still find him insufferable.”

“I understand. So do I most of the time. But I will tell you this; he’s arrogant, irritating, and selfish, yes, but when he cares about someone, he’ll walk through Hell for them. Woe be to anyone who threatens those he loves.” He reached out and took her hand, squeezing gently. “And he doesn’t stand for innocents getting hurt. It’s one of many reasons he doesn’t care for de Sable. Subject 16 infuriated him in ways I hadn’t seen since my accident.”

“Did he know Clay?”

Malik hesitated for only a moment. The only way to truly know she was trustworthy was to allow her a glimpse of the truth. “Unlikely, but the knowledge that an innocent man died from those experiments hit him hard. Al Mualim had worked with de Sable many years ago on the genetic memory research. We grew up with the belief it would change the world. But it’s too easy to misuse.”

“Robert never told me he’d worked with Al Mualim.” She was surprised. Certainly, he should have told her before she’d been sent down to deal with Creed International. And what did Malik mean, Project Eden was too easy to misuse? What was going on?

The one-armed COO took her surprise as a good sign. It meant that she was merely ignorant, not malicious. Ignorance could be cured. “They didn’t part on good terms. In fact, they came to utterly loath each other, to the point where innocent people got caught in the crossfire. Al Mualim was a wretched man, and I know you don’t want to hear this, but Robert de Sable is no better. They deserve a spot in Hell together.”

Maria forced down the instinctive urge to defend her boss. “What happened?”

“Egos got involved, each of them having a grand vision for how best to use the research. Neither were willing to compromise, and de Sable left to start Templar Industries. A couple years later, Altair and I took over Creed International, and neither of us wanted anything to do with the genetic memory research. We redirected the company into new fields and never looked back.”  _Though we look forward to bringing down your boss once and for all,_  Malik added silently.

There was a lot to take in. Maria didn’t even know where to start. If Robert really was as bad as Malik said, was she doing the right thing staying with him? Was there even more to Altair’s refusal to sign the contract than she thought?

He knew he’d probably overwhelmed her with information, so he decided to leave their conversation at that. She wasn’t ready to learn her boss’ true nature, but he was pleased that she hadn’t immediately rejected the accusation that de Sable was no saint. Perhaps there was hope for her yet. Standing, Malik gestured outside. “You mentioned dancing. Mind if I join you? I happen to know a club nearby that serves some of the best cocktails in town, and manages to not play completely terrible music.”

She smiled and began gathering her bags. While she was distracted, Malik sent Altair a quick text. Maria wouldn’t be happy when she saw the billionaire at the club, but they needed to get things settled before she could learn the truth. If they had their confrontation in public, perhaps they’d be able to keep things civil. If not, the loud club music meant they wouldn’t look too out of place shouting at each other, and at least he could enjoy a drink while they fought.

Because Maria wasn’t a threat. In fact, he was starting to think Altair needed a woman like her in his life. With de Sable’s fall close at hand, his brother in all but blood would need something new to drive him, as did he. Perhaps Maria could be that drive; Altair could spend his days futilely trying to woo her, and he could come up with new ways to help her frustrate him. There were worse hobbies, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try not to take too long with the next chapter. Hopefully work won't get too insane, but considering how I work for a company that focuses on tourism, Summer is kind of our busy season. But I promise the next chapter will be juicy. Anyone have suggestions for club songs to set the mood? Also, I totally want to go to the Talise Ottoman Spa now. Soooo pretty!  
> FYI, nothing makes me happier than opening my inbox and seeing a new comment, and it encourages me to write faster, so hint hint! ;)


	7. Tell Me What You Want

The club was certainly something else. Taking up the top two floors of a downtown building, it was the sort of place Maria had thought only existed in movies and TV shows. Flashing lights, pulsing beats, and mirrored walls and floors made the place look almost unreal. There were a few cages and stages where beautiful women gyrated and danced sensually, but the whole place felt less seedy and more high-end. Malik hadn’t even needed to show his ID; the bouncer clearly knew him, ushering them in with a bow and a few respectful words in Arabic.

Currently, she was sitting in the VIP lounge on the balcony overlooking the throng of dancers. The DJ was pretty good, playing everything from Beyoncé to trance music to Daft Punk. It was still early, no later than 9pm, so no one was wasted or high from the looks of things, yet the party was far from dull. This was certainly a better place than anywhere she might have gotten into on her own.

Malik sauntered back from the VIP bar and handed her a bright red shot. “When was the last time you went clubbing?” he asked over the music. It wasn’t too bad upstairs, meaning they could actually converse.

She shrugged, subtly inspecting the drink. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Malik, but she preferred to be careful, and she knew bartenders could either be protective of the women in clubs, or just as sleazy as the patrons. Better safe than sorry, after all. “Probably not since University. The girls took me out just before graduation to celebrate. It was a good time, though the night ended early after I had to punch a bloke for getting too handsy with my roommate.”

“Did the men ever get handsy with you?”

She smirked, taking a cautious sip of her drink. It tasted good, not too strong or too sweet. Perfectly trustworthy, though she knew to watch her intake. “A few tried, but most seemed to realize I wasn’t interested.”

Taking a sip of his own drink, he smirked, looking her over. “You do give off that aura.”

“What aura?” she asked, bemused.

“The untouchable ice queen. You’re too good for them, and they know it, so they either try to knock you down or ignore you to feed their own egos.”

Maria snorted. “I’m no queen.”

“Altair thinks so.”

Laughter bubbled up in her throat. “Altair just thinks I’m another quick lay.”

Malik shook his head. “Hardly. He’s not very good at showing it, but he respects you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be trying so hard to win you over. He sees you as a worthy opponent, if nothing else.”

“Opponent is right. We fight as often as not.”

“You can’t tell me you don’t enjoy it.”

“And what gave you that impression?” she asked, downing the shot. It burned her throat going down, but in a good way, making her feel alive and loose.

“If you didn’t, you wouldn’t allow him to provoke you so easily.”

“He simply grates on me. Besides, I’ve always been told I have a bit of a temper.”

“A woman in your position can’t afford to have a temper. And considering how important Altair’s cooperation is to your boss’ goals, it would be better to simply let his asinine comments roll off your back.” Malik’s dark eyes glimmered with amusement. “Instead, you take his bait eagerly. You two practically go out of your way to pick a fight.”

“He might, but I don’t.”

“Then why are you here with me instead of at dinner with him?”

Thinking it over, Maria had no answer to that. Much as Altair annoyed her, she found their verbal spars as exhilarating as they were infuriating. Perhaps she was simply starved for attention; she certainly didn’t get decent conversation from her coworkers, and it would be a cold day in hell before she fought with her boss just for the fun of it. It was like fencing; rapid-fire insults, quick counters, constantly keeping each other on their toes. She needed the fight in her life like a fish needed water. It was one of the many reasons she and Peter had been incompatible. It was often why she found herself having a hard time finding a boyfriend; she needed someone who challenged her without looking down on her, a man willing to fight with her as much as by her side. Men like that were hard to come by.

Realization struck her, forcing her to groan and bury her head in her hands. Damn. She’d written her attraction to Altair off as just physical, certain that she was just a slave to basic hormones, but now that she thought about it, he stimulated her mentally more than Robert did. Sure, her boss could go on for hours about the latest medical marvels, but how much did she actually listen to? She’d just sit there and enjoy his enthusiasm and passion, mixed with his deep, accented voice, but if asked what the hell he’d actually said throughout the whole thing, she’d be clueless.

With Altair, she was invested whenever they spoke. He kept her mind sharp, and she could distinctly recall every conversation they’d had. His voice stirred something inside her, but his words never failed to affect her, much as she tried to ignore them.

Talking, arguing, even flirting with Altair was not a chore; it was a pleasure.

Malik smirked at her silence and finished his drink. He did so love being proven right. By Allah, if she and Altair didn’t hook up by the end of the week he’d fly his boneheaded friend up to London himself and lock them in her bedroom. They were both far too stubborn for their own goods.

With no real argument to make against him, she grabbed Malik’s arm and strode down the steel spiral staircase towards the dance floor.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Maria smirked over her shoulder. “You asked to join me tonight, so I’m making you my dance partner.”

“I never agreed to this,” he said sourly, nearly tripping down the last couple steps as he resisted her insistent grip.

Once they were on the floor, Maria pulled him in close, swaying her hips as Beyoncé’s “Partition” started up. “The bouncer clearly knew you; are you telling me you come to the club but don’t dance?”

He rolled his eyes but proceeded to follow her lead. “I come here to drink and maybe pick up a woman or two.”

“And how exactly do you pick up women at the club without dancing?” she asked teasingly.

He gave her a smoky grin. “I’d show you, but you told me you don’t mix business and pleasure.”

Maria bit her lip and rolled her hips against his. She had the feeling that Malik, like Altair, was used to women falling over themselves to get his attention. She certainly couldn’t fault the female species for it; like Altair, he was ridiculously handsome, and his dark eyes glittered with both intelligence and mischief. His lack of arm hardly took away from his looks, either. If anything, it added a layer of mystery to him, indicating a story and rough past that probably drew in the women like bees to honey.

“True, but my curiosity has been piqued. Certainly, if I were just another woman at the bar, you’d have some sort of plan to win me over?”

“Of course. But you’d hardly be just another woman.”

She flipped her hair over her shoulder flirtatiously, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I didn’t come here to be flattered, Mr. al-Sayf.”

He gave her an appreciative once-over. “That dress would say differently. Dare I ask what compelled you to get it?”

“The salesgirl said it was guaranteed to drive a man wild, and I was curious to see if she was right.”

“I can safely say that you in a dress like that would certainly test Altair’s control.”

“How do you know I didn’t get it to seduce you?”

“Because you don’t need that dress to get my attention. Just show up to my room in a French maid costume.”

Wrinkling her nose in disdain, she said, “If that’s what you like, I’m quite glad I didn’t get this dress for you.”

“So you did get it for Altair.”

“I doubt I’ll ever let him see me in it.”

Leaning down close to her ear, Malik murmured, “Would you let him see you out of it?”

Blushing, she lightly slapped his chest in reproach. “Watch your words, Malik. I like you, but I’m more than willing to find another dance partner.”

“Oh no. Not that,” he said dryly as he dipped her playfully, enjoying the surprised laugh she let out. He couldn’t keep the grin off his own lips, either. _She didn’t say no,_ he thought with amusement. _Altair, you might have a chance after all._

Spinning her around, he pressed her back to his front. He was trying to keep the dancing clean, but he had to admit it wasn’t easy when he had a woman as beautiful as Maria pressed against him. Pity Altair had already staked his claim; in another life, Malik wouldn’t have minded taking a stab at winning her over himself. But he wasn’t going to risk his hard-won friendship over a woman, no matter how spectacular she was.

 _Of course,_ he thought, spotting a certain businessman across the dance floor glaring at him murderously, _that doesn’t mean I can’t have some fun._

Sensually, he ran his hand along Maria’s waist and hip, swaying his hips with hers and leaning down to whisper in her ear, “I doubt you’ll need me for long, though. You’ve made me the envy of every man in the room.”

Glancing at him over her shoulder, she smirked. “And I’m sure more than a few women wish they were in my position. Is that your secret?”

Teasingly kissing her cheek, he murmured, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

The song finally ended, and Daft Punk’s “Lose Yourself to Dance,” started up. Malik pulled away, smirking at her frown of disappointment. “I told you, I don’t typically dance. I’m going to get another drink.”

Shaking her head in mock exasperation, she waved him off. “Fine, go. I’ll join you again after a couple more songs.”

“Don’t stop on my account.”

She shrugged. “Dancing alone isn’t that much fun.”

He gave her a wry smile as he headed towards the stairs. “Somehow, I doubt that will be a problem for long.”

XXX

A couple more songs had turned into ten, and Maria was certainly enjoying herself. Malik had graced her with his presence again around song number eight, Adam Lambert’s “For Your Entertainment,” with another shot, and even deigned to dance with her again, even murmuring some of the lyrics in her ear for the sake of seeing her blush. A few other men had approached her for a dance, but she found herself brushing them off, much to her surprise. Hadn’t she said to Malik dancing alone wasn’t as fun? Perhaps it had been so long since she’d gone clubbing she didn’t need a partner anymore.

The harsh, familiar beat of Nine Inch Nails’ “Closer” started pumping through the speakers, and Maria smiled, moving to the music. She’d forgotten how freeing a good song, sexy clothing, and a few drinks could be. She rarely let loose anymore, and it felt good to forget her troubles for a few hours and get lost in the beat.

Her eyes snapped open as she felt her body pulled against a hard frame. The two hands on her hips told her it was certainly not Malik behind her, and her stomach dropped as her body instinctively recognized the hard planes of muscle behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, her suspicions were confirmed.

Altair had found her.

The golden-eyed man looked down at her, lips twisted in what could either be a smirk or a scowl. The dim lights made it rather difficult to tell. “Fancy seeing you here,” he murmured darkly, and a shiver ran through her body. That voice, mixed with the heavy bass of the music, sounded both dangerous and seductive, like an incubus invading her dreams.

Maria took a deep, calming breath. She wasn’t angry anymore, but she was certainly not going to let Altair intimidate her. “Malik invited me. What are you doing here?”

Moving both their bodies to the beat, Altair whispered, “I was feeling a little frustrated after being stood up for dinner, so I thought some dancing might take the edge off.” He gave a little nip underneath her ear, relishing the near inaudible gasp she released. She smelled like roses, and her skin felt even softer than usual. Clearly, the spa had done her good. “Though, imagine my surprise when I walk in to find you dancing with my best friend.”

Earlier, he was willing to go slowly for Maria, to give her space and time, even as it frustrated him. Watching her from the balcony had been torture, nursing a vodka tonic while waiting for her to take a break from dancing so that he could approach her. But as she danced, clearly loosing herself in the music and looking so happy, he’d been reluctant to disturb her, even as he longed to join her. Of course, Malik had decided he was bored watching him pine over the Englishwoman and had chosen to taunt him by dancing with her again.

Seeing her grind against his brother for the second time that night had gotten his blood simmering again, and his patience had finally run out. She was taunting him, looking so damn edible in that dress, and if she wouldn’t come to him, he’d simply go to her. There was only so much a man could take. So he’d knocked back the rest of his drink, sent a request to the DJ, and made his way to his woman. After all, what better way was there to reconcile than by grinding on the dance floor to a song literally about fucking?

Maria lifted her chin defiantly. “I can dance with whomever I want.”

Warm, rough fingers rubbed small, teasing circles against her stomach, and he could feel the muscles twitch beneath the soft fabric. “True. But that doesn’t mean you stand a man up when he’s trying to apologize.”

“You’re doing a pretty shoddy job making me regret that.”

“Yet you’re doing a wonderful job making me forget my irritation.” Maria shuddered as she felt his soft lips caress the shell of her ear. “Love the outfit, by the way. Especially the heels. Maybe I’ll have you keep them on while I fuck you.”

Maria glared over her shoulder at him. “You’re a pig.”

“That’s all you’ve got? Two days ago that comment would have gotten me slapped.”

There was nothing she could say to that, so she simply turned away and continued to dance. She could ignore him. She didn’t need his arguing. He was just another body in the crowd, no different than any other good-looking man who might ask her to dance. The only good-looking man besides Malik she had allowed to dance with her. Despite herself, she could feel heat pooling between her thighs as he ground against her.

Pulling her in closer until there wasn’t even a molecule of air between them, Altair gripped her hips tightly as they swayed to the music. “You sure do send a lot of mixed signals. You stand me up for dinner, but right now you’re grinding against me like there’s nothing you’d like better than for me to pin you down and make you scream.” He breathed in her scent and groaned as even more blood pumped into his hardening cock. “Maybe you’d like me to put you over my knee and spank you like the bad girl you are?”

A blush rose to her cheeks, and she was grateful the darkness hid it from his prying eyes. “If you think I’m going to play along, you’re quite mistaken. We can’t all be depraved arseholes with an exhibitionist streak.” Despite her harsh words, the heat between her thighs was slowly soaking her lacy thong at the images he was putting in her head. Reaching behind her, her fingers buried themselves in his short brown hair, giving the soft strands a sharp tug. She wasn’t quite sure if she was trying to pull him away or closer. Regardless, he seemed to appreciate the sensation of her sharp nails running along his scalp.

Altair’s chuckle dripped with sensuality next to her ear. “You’re more depraved than you admit, Maria. I think you like it when I talk dirty to you,” he continued salaciously. “You’re always so prim and proper, but deep down, you crave a little naughtiness in your life. You want to rebel against the rules and standards others place on you, yet you hide behind your armor, unwilling to risk people finding out and holding it against you.” His breath, hot and humid as the Amazon jungle, teased her sensitive skin while his four-fingered hand trailed up to briefly squeeze her breast. It fit his palm perfectly, and he couldn’t resist giving the nipple he felt hardening under the soft satin a sharp pinch. The strained noise he heard her make low in her throat urged him on. “You resist because it’s expected of you. Yet here you remain, because your body knows I can make you submit to desire.”

Unable to take anymore, she ground her ass back against him. “And what about you?” she goaded, arching her back and thrusting her chest out, looking up at him from beneath hooded eyelashes. “Do you get off on making me angry? On disrespecting me and treating me like a whore?”

A low groan echoed in her ear as he rubbed against her harder. “Never a whore.”

“Really? Yet you insist on me trading sexual favors for my job.” Pulling herself away, she spun around to glare at him. “That sounds like a whore to me.”

Golden eyes flashed with both lust and anger. “You believe I think so little of you?”

“You’ve yet to do anything to prove otherwise.”

“Damn it, Maria!” His snarl of frustration was practically animalistic as he pulled her against him, this time face-to-face. “What do you want from me? I’ve never met a more frustrating woman. You say you don’t want me, then you kiss me back like I’m an oasis and you’re dying of thirst. You insult me, but never reject me. You claim to hate my touch, but here you are, still in my arms.” He rolled his hips against her dripping core, and she gasped at the feel of the hot spear of his cock. “Feel that? That’s all because of you. I could give you pleasure, no strings attached. I would worship your beautiful body for hours before I even thought about my own satisfaction. Tonight, I was willing to do whatever it took to earn your forgiveness, yet you deny me even that chance. So tell me, Maria,” he whispered harshly. “What. Do. You. _Want_?”

She screwed her eyes shut, resisting the physical responses her body was forcing to the surface. “Respect, Altair. All I want from any man is respect.”

“I do respect you. That doesn’t mean I can’t still want you.”

“Well, if you want me to want you, maybe you should show your respect by giving me some personal space.”

He sighed and released his grip. She took a couple steps away, as much as she could on the crowded dance floor. He looked…sad. Defeated, almost like her words hurt him. “I’m sorry about the pictures, Maria. It was never my intention to hurt you. Yes, part of me wanted de Sable to see us together, but I never meant to embarrass you, or put your job in jeopardy. But how am I supposed to make up for my mistake if you won’t let me apologize?”

Biting her lip, she considered his words. He wasn’t wrong. And wasn’t the first step to forgiving someone sometimes realizing the other person is an idiot? She gave him a wry look. “It’s been a long time since you’ve had to actually apologize to anyone, hasn’t it?”

He nodded solemnly. “Verbally? Years. I told you, I put more stock in actions than words.”

With a sigh, Maria gestured towards the balcony. “Why don’t we talk elsewhere? I doubt the dancers appreciate us taking up space like this.”

Altair nodded again. “That sounds like a good idea.”

They attempted to move through the crowd, but the wall of dancers ended up separating them. Shrugging, Maria started climbing the nearest set of stairs. He knew where to meet her, after all. A few moments of separation were probably for the best. They both needed to cool down. Her blood was racing through her veins, and her knees were shaking slightly. He’d been right, damn it; she did like his dirty talk, and he definitely affected her more than she’d admit. Her only consolation was that she seemed to frustrate him just as much.

When she was nearly at the top of the stairs, Maria was blocked by a tall, moderately attractive man. “Hello, little fox,” he cooed. “How about a dance?”

“No thank you,” she replied, attempting to squeeze past him, but he moved closer, purposely invading her space.

“Don’t be shy,” he said, leering at her outfit. “I’m Shahar. What’s your name?”

“As I have no interest in giving it to you, I’ll leave that to your imagination,” she replied dryly, turning to head back down. There were plenty of staircases back up to the balcony, so she didn’t need to deal with some random creep. Unfortunately, her path was blocked by a mirror image of the man now at her back.

“You’re right, your name isn’t what’s important. After all, it’ll be our names you’ll be screaming,” the second man chuckled.

Shahar pressed himself against her back, placing a hand on her hip. “This is my twin, Shalim. We’ve been admiring you since you walked in.”

Shalim took the few remaining steps up until Maria was sandwiched in between them. “We especially enjoyed watching you dance. You and Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad gave quite the show. Got a taste for rich blood, have you?”

“Though I’m not surprised you left him behind. A pretty thing like you can’t be satisfied by just one man.”

Maria glared at the twins, attempting to wriggle away from their pawing hands. “If it takes two of you to satisfy one woman, I think that speaks more about your performance than anything else. Besides, I’m fairly certain identical twins having sex together is closer to masturbation than anything else.”

Shalim’s cocky expression twisted into a dark scowl. “Mind your words, little fox. Women the world over would beg for the chance to be between us.”

“Then go bother one of them. I’m not interested in either of you, much less both.”

“I believe that a rejection any way you spin it, boys,” came Malik’s calm, cool voice. He was leaning against the railing of the balcony, seemingly indifferent, but Maria could see the glint of disdain in his eyes and tension in the set of his shoulders.

The twins craned their necks to face him. “Fuck off, cripple,” Shalim snapped.

Shahar merely smirked. “Excuse my twin’s rudeness, but I agree. You’re not part of this conversation.”

“No, but I am,” Maria snapped, bringing their attention back to her. Malik’s expression hadn’t noticeably changed, yet felt incredibly offended on his behalf. “And I can assure you, he’s right. I want nothing to do with you, so piss off.”

Shahar gave her a condescending smile as Shalim pressed closer, the stench of whiskey heavy on his hot breath. Maria bared her teeth in disgust as she felt his hands grope her rear. “Sweet thing, you don’t know what you want. You’re just a confused little lamb, begging to be led.”

“Don’t worry, though,” Shalim said, grinding his obvious erection against her. “We’re more than happy to show you a woman like you her place.”

Altair appeared behind Shalim as if from thin air. “Are you fools deaf?” he snapped, golden eyes sharp and calculating. “She’s not interested, so let her pass. You’re bothering her, and annoying me.”

The slightly politer twin regarded Altair carefully. “Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad. So nice to see you. Is this one yours?”

Before Maria could even speak, Altair replied with a deadly calm, “Whether she’s mine or not shouldn’t matter. She told you, quite clearly, to leave her alone.”

Altair and Malik were both familiar with the twins. An irritating mix of smug superiority and wannabe lady-killer non-charm, their paths had crossed a few times before, both at society dinners and clubs like this. They’d often enjoyed stealing whatever women the twins had set their attention on, and the ladies had always been grateful for the rescue. But now they’d set their sights on Maria, and that simply would not stand.

Shalim snorted rudely, ignoring Maria’s not so subtle attempts to pull away from him. “So, what, you’re her knight in fucking armor?”

He grinned, scarred lip and glittering eyes making him look all the more dangerous. “I’m sure she doesn’t need one, but I’m happy to lend a hand, if she wishes.”

“We both are,” Malik said.

A small bubble of appreciation welled up in Maria. Altair seemed to have taken her words to heart; instead of macho posturing, he was letting her fight her own battles, though still ready to lend a hand if she asked. That was respect she rarely saw in men anywhere. If he kept this up, she might actually accept his apology.

Shalim laughed rudely. “If she’s not yours, then she’s up for grabs. So fuck off.”

Shahar gestured to the floor, where four men in black suits had gathered. Two more stood at the balcony, flanking Malik. They were all at least Rauf’s size, broad and bulky, and certainly looked ready to start a fight. The crowd of dancers was slowly beginning to edge away, anticipating that something was about to go down. “I hate making a scene, so I’d suggest backing off. Is one woman really worth getting your asses kicked?”

Altair didn’t even flinch. “She’s worth more than you can imagine.”

“The real question is,” Malik sneered, “is one woman worth seeing your bodyguards piled in a bloody heap?”

“To say nothing of what will happen to you,” Altair added, the glint in his eyes almost eager.

Shahar grabbed Maria’s wrists, pulling her close without taking his eyes off the golden-eyed businessman. She struggled against him, but his grip was surprisingly strong. “If you’re really that invested in playing the hero, be my guest. Maybe the little fox will give you a pity-fuck later for your efforts.”

“Assuming she’ll be in any shape to do so after we’re done with her,” Shalim smirked.

Over Shahar’s shoulder, Maria could see the two bodyguards closing in on Malik, and a spike of fear pierced her heart. She twisted enough to look behind her, and saw one of the men from the floor had gotten behind Altair. Heart racing, she tried to think of a way to diffuse the situation. She had no desire to go anywhere with the twins, but she couldn’t stand by and watch her friends get hurt. While she had no doubt Altair could probably hold his own against one or two of the bodyguards, they were massively outnumbered, and that wasn’t even taking Malik’s missing arm into account.

She looked Shahar right in the eye, giving him her sweetest smile. “Look, there’s no need to start a fight. I’m not interested, but I’m sure a couple of good-looking men like yourselves could easily find someone more accommodating. So why don’t we all just calm down and go our separate ways before anyone gets hurt?”

Bile burned the back of her throat as Shahar leaned forward, face mere inches from hers. “You’re confused, my dear. Perhaps we didn’t make ourselves clear; we want you, therefore you’re coming with us. The opinion of this piece of trash and his crippled friend don’t matter.”

Without even thinking, Maria drove the spike of her heel into Shahar’s foot, his shout of pain the catalyst for sending the club into chaos. Shalim surged forward, either to pull her off or strike her, but Altair quickly grabbed him by the shoulder, tossing him over the railing into the cluster of bodyguards below. It wasn’t a high drop, but his sudden weight caught the men off guard. The guard on the stairs spun Altair around, throwing a punch at the smaller man. Without even a pause, he ducked, catching the larger man off balance and slamming a fist directly into his sternum. Groaning, the guard stumbled back, flipping back over the railing as Altair planted his foot square in the middle of his chest. With a gleam in his eyes that Maria had never seen before, he leapt after him, landing in the center of the horde of bodyguards.

Meanwhile, Malik had begun his fight against the two bodyguards on the balcony, dodging their strikes with such ease it was almost as if his opponents were moving through molasses. Seemingly bored of their sloppy attacks, Malik deftly tripped the one on his left, using the distraction it caused to land a high hook kick on the other’s temple, causing him to collapse like a sack of potatoes. With one of his assailants down for the count, he knelt down to twist the arm of the one he tripped around his throat, choking the man with his own limb.

Relieved that Malik seemed to have things on his end well in hand, Maria focused her attention on Shahar. With a glare, she slammed the ball of her foot into his knee, relishing his howl of pain as his grip on her wrists slackened. Quick as a viper, she pulled her hands free and elbowed him in the stomach. Bent over and winded, Shahar had no choice but to watch as her fist slammed directly into his left eye, knocking him onto his back.

With Shahar seemingly out of commission, Maria turned to check on Altair, only to find herself entranced. Shalim was back on his feet, but he and his men were definitely in worse shape. Apparently, being outnumbered five-to-one wasn’t a problem for Altair, as he’d managed to knock out one of the bodyguards and was doing an admirable job taking down another, slamming the larger man’s head directly into the stairs.

Maria shouted a warning as another moved to attack him, but Altair was already ahead of her, quickly climbing up the railing and doing a backflip over the charging brute, chuckling as he knocked himself out against the steel steps. Turning to face the other advancing men, he landed several mercury-quick, precise strikes as they clumsily tried to bring him down. A _thump_ caught her attention, and she realized that Malik had literally jumped down from the balcony, barely needing time to reorient himself before landing a roundhouse kick to one’s head, knocking him out with ease.

With the last of the bodyguards down, they turned to Shalim, who was swearing in Arabic. Altair gave a curt reply in the same language before darting forward, slamming his fist into the twin’s face with an audible crunch. Shalim collapsed, clearly unconscious, blood pouring down his face and onto the dancefloor.

Maria had to appreciate the spectacle in front of her. Altair was poetry in motion, a violent dancer whose every movement was both beautiful and dangerous. And the look on his face was terrifyingly arousing. Eagle eyes coolly surveyed the men like he was simply deciding which pitiful mouse he’d swoop down on first. But there was also an eager gleam there, like a cat who planned to play with its prey. She wondered where he learned to fight. She wondered even more whether he was a turned on as she was.

Her distraction cost her, though. Shahar had recovered and grabbed her from behind, wrapping an arm around her throat and squeezing the breath out of her as she struggled against him. She kicked at his shins, and while he gave a pained grunt, he didn’t let go. The pressure on her windpipe was making it hard to breath, and the more she struggled, the tighter her held her.

As Maria struggled futilely, Shahar called out, “Stand down, Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad! Or the little fox is leaving in an ambulance!”

Altair spun around, and Maria registered a spark of fear flash across his face before it morphed into a snarl of rage. In less than a heartbeat, he’d climbed up the outside of the stairs and onto the railing in front of them balancing briefly before leaping into the air. Once again she dimly compared him to an eagle as he allowed gravity to take over, using the drop to lend even more force to his fist as he bashed it into Shahar’s face.

Gasping as the choking grip finally loosened enough for her to pull away, she watched as Altair crouched over the fallen twin, landing punch after punch onto his prone body. Malik called for him to stop, but Altair either didn’t hear him, or didn’t care, too focused on trying to turn Shahar’s face into hamburger meat.

As the blood splattered onto his crisp, white shirt, all Altair cared about was punishing Shahar for laying his hands on _his_ Maria. Both twins deserved to be beaten into a bloody smear on the ground, both for that evening’s actions and their past mistreatment of women, but Shahar was the one who dared threaten Maria. The one who dared try to hurt what was his right in front of him.

Hands grabbed his shirt and pulled him off the prone scumbag. Furious that he’d been interrupted, he whirled around to yell at Malik for stopping him, only to find himself silenced by Maria’s lips on his. Shocked, he allowed her soft mouth to move against his, warm tongue brushing the seam of his lips, snapped him out of his daze. Maria was kissing him, and he wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to enjoy her sweet mouth on his.

Maria hadn’t even thought before she did it. Altair was out of control, and while Shahar and his brother had certainly been creeps and borderline psychopaths, it honestly had looked like Altair was going to kill him if he kept up any longer. So she did the one thing she was sure would distract him from his rage, even as the darker part of her mind whispered how hot it was to have a man willing to kill for her. But she wasn’t going to let him go to jail because of her.

It was just supposed to be a quick kiss, though. Just long enough for him to come to his senses. But the second their lips touched, a surge of lust shot through her, and all the arousal she’d felt from the dance and watching him fight came rushing back. She felt like a stripped wire, bare and exposed and sparking, like she could shock someone with just a touch. And Altair’s body was so hot pressed against her, his tongue quickly dominating the kiss and she eagerly submitted to his touch.

A throat cleared, and the two reluctantly broke away to see Malik at the bottom of the stairs, eyebrow raised as about a half-dozen cops rushed inside.

“If you two are done, we have company,” he quipped.

Ignoring his friend, Altair stared at Maria. He was utterly entranced at the sight of her. Chest heaving, face flushed, strands of hair sticking to her sweaty face, she looked like she’d been fucking more than fighting. Most of all, there was a spark in her eyes that was eerily like his own; pure, manic passion. She was practically trembling with adrenaline, still keyed up from the battle that had been raging around her and the kiss she’d pulled him into.

Catching Malik’s eye, he indicated the Englishwoman with a silent jerk of his head. Confused, the one-armed man looked at her, other eyebrow shooting up as he saw the state she was in.

Malik gave the two of them a nod. “Get Maria out of here. I’ll take care of the clean-up.”

Altair grabbed Maria’s wrist. “Let’s go,” he said brusquely, pulling her towards the exit. Still in a daze from the fight, she followed without complaint, letting him lead her outside into a deserted alley. As soon as the doors closed, she was pressed to the wall, Altair’s hard, hot body invading her senses as he began frantically kissing her.

Heart pumping with a mix of adrenaline and arousal, she kissed back with equal fervor, twisting her tongue around his as he eagerly conquered her mouth. His hands stroked her figure reverently, as if he were memorizing her every dip and curve. Pulling away with a gasp, Maria latched her mouth onto his neck, relishing his surprised groan as she sucked the tan skin.

Shocked and pleased at the Englishwoman’s actions, he wedged a knee between her thighs, grinding the muscular limb against her sensitive core. The sound she let out in response was practically a mewl, and he hiked her up further until she had no choice but to straddle his leg.

Releasing the skin of his throat with a low whine, she grabbed the lapels of his shirt as Altair began rhythmically grinding his thigh against her sensitive heat, the bulge of his hard cock a searing reminder of how much he wanted her. “What are we doing?” she gasped out.

Her choice of pronoun was even more encouraging than her lips on his skin. “You’re too much on edge. I’m helping you…relax.”

She gave his ear a sharp nip. “What makes you think I need your help?”

He grinned, rolling one of her straining nipples between his rough fingers. “I’m sure you don’t, but it’s better if we get some of this tension out of you before we get home. You don’t need my staff wondering why you look like you could cum at any moment, do you?”

Pulling away, scandalized, she bit out, “I do not—”

His mouth silenced any protests she might have given, sucking on her tongue and nibbling her bottom lip until she was a moaning mess beneath him. “What turned you on more, Maria?” he growled when he finally pulled away, jerking his thigh against her. “The dancing, or the fight?”

“Neither,” she gasped as a lightning bolt of pleasure jolted through her stimulated clit. “I’m not turned on.”

Altair chuckled darkly at her half-hearted lie. “Really? Then if I were to remove my leg, you wouldn’t beg me for more?”

“No!” she cried out when he started to pull away, pressing down harder against his thigh.

Lips latched onto her earlobe and teased the flesh. “Do you mean ‘no, I wouldn’t,’ or ‘no, don’t stop?’” He gave his hips another thrust for good measure, smirking as she pulled him closer, polished nails threatening to cut holes in the collar of his blood-spattered shirt. Try as she might to hide it, she needed some sort of release, too keyed up from the drinks, dancing, and fight. Light as a sparrow’s feather, his mouth trailed down her neck to her bare shoulder. “I can feel how hot you are through my clothes, Maria. You need this, need me.” Pulling away his leg, he quickly silenced her mewling cries by grinding the palm of his hand against her sensitive clit. “By Allah, you’re soaked. What do you want? Would you like me to touch you? To move aside your panties and make you cum with my fingers?”

Maria threw her head back against the wall as he pressed against her harder, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer. Her skin felt too tight, and every nerve in her body was screaming for pleasure, while the rough wall at her bare back reminded her that they were in an alley where anyone could walk in on them. Which, if she was being completely honest, was a turn-on itself. She screwed her eyes shut and buried her head in his shoulder. She was supposed to be responsible, professional Maria Thorpe. How was it that Altair managed to reduce her to such a wanton harlot and make her like it?

“Tell me what you want, Maria.” His voice was gravel and silk, dripping with sin and temptation.

“Please,” she whispered against his shoulder.

“Please what?”

Swallowing her pride, she pulled away just enough to say, “Please make me cum.”

Altair moaned as her pleading voice went straight to his cock. There was no hesitation as he ripped off the soaked, lacy thong and pushed one of his rough fingers into her blazing hot quim. Pulling her head away from his shoulder, he slanted his mouth over hers, stroking her tongue with his in time with his finger. He nearly came himself at the feel of her; she was hot and tight around his finger, inner walls soft as velvet and so very wet. It was heaven between her thighs, and he could feel her legs trembling as she struggled to remain standing. Grabbing one of those luscious thighs, he hiked it up to wrap around his waist, leaning her against the wall and gripping her bottom tightly to help support her. Slowly, he inserted another finger, grinning as she began jerking her hips in time to his thrusts.

Releasing her mouth, he purred in her ear, “Does that feel good?”

“Yes,” she whimpered, wrapping her arms around his neck for balance. Her legs may as well have been made of cotton balls for all the support they gave her. She was completely at his mercy, and it felt amazing.

His fingers curled inside her, pressing against her G-spot, and the rhythm of her hips stuttered, jerking hard against his hand as a wave of pleasure, more intense than the ones before, swelled up and forced a moan from her lungs so loud she had to bite down on Altair’s shoulder to muffle the sound.

“Shhh. If you’re too loud, I’ll have to stop,” he whispered, but she could tell by his tone that he was hardly going to make that easy for her. As if reading her mind, Altair deviously curled his fingers again and ground his palm against her throbbing clit. “Have you ever done anything like this? No, probably not. Too worried about how others might see you to risk something as naughty as letting a man has his way with you in a dark alley. So you hold yourself back, bottling up all that passion, all those fantasies, just waiting for someone like me to coax you into letting go.”

“This is coaxing?” she gasped out, eyes screwed shut as she leaned her head against the wall, teeth burying themselves deeply in her lip in an effort to keep from making too much noise.

His hot mouth pressed wetly against her ear, and the vibrations of his dark chocolate voice, rich and sweet and bitter all at once, made her tremble even more. “Oh, I could coax, and tease, and make you beg, but I think we’re both too far gone for that now.” His fingers moved faster, thrusting and curling against that perfect spot, groaning as he felt her walls spasm and clench around him.

She was right on the edge. He could feel it, hear it in her keening moans. She just needed that one last push, and he’d get to watch her fall into bliss.

“Open your eyes, Maria. I want you to look at me while I make you cum.”

As if in a daze, she obeyed, and he almost came right in his pants. Storm cloud grey glazed over with lust, combined with the delectable flush of her cheeks and plump, blood-red lips parted ever so slightly. It was beyond any look he’d ever seen on his past lovers’ faces. His fraying control snapped, and he thrust his fingers with abandon, never taking his eyes off Maria’s expression as she came apart at his hands.

She was beyond beautiful, lost in the abyss of pleasure. Her delectable cries would haunt him for years to come. He latched his lips onto her throat and began sucking hard, desperate to leave a mark on her that he could see the next morning to prove to him this hadn’t all just been a dream.

Satisfied at the bright red hickey he’d created, he continued to stroke her as her orgasm subsided, causing little aftershocks to rock through her as she valiantly attempted to catch her breath. Finally, he removed his hand from her aching core, the evidence of her release gleaming in the dim light. Still in a daze, she watched as he raised his fingers to his mouth, sucking her juices off reverently, as if she were some rare treat that he wanted to savor. His eyes never left hers as he cleaned off his fingers, low groans of delight echoing in her ears.

Altair couldn’t resist tasting her release, and the way she watched him, entranced, made his cock ache. It took all his years of carefully practiced control to keep from ripping open his pants and burying himself inside her. Now that he’d seen her fall apart at his hands, he wanted to see it again and again, watch her submit to him and get lost in the pleasure he’d happily provide.

Maria forced herself to look away from the erotic way he was sucking his fingers, practically fucking her with his eyes, but found her gaze instead falling on the obvious bulge in his pants. He’d done a fantastic job making her cum. Was he expecting her to return the favor?

Satisfied that he’d removed every drop of her sweet juices from his hand, he reached down and straightened her dress, feeling slightly guilty that he’s destroyed her panties. His car wasn’t far, but he doubted she was looking forward to walking down the street without any underwear. The dress covered enough, but if she tripped, she risked flashing the people on the street. And Malik was already going to have his work cut out for him dealing with the mess at the nightclub; no need to add him murdering a bunch of strangers for looking at what was his to his friend’s workload. Taking a deep, calming breath, he motioned to the mouth of the alley. “We should head home. It’s been quite the day; I’m sure you’re looking forward to a good night’s sleep.”

Maria looked at him in concern. “What about you?”

“Once Rauf finishes chewing my ear off for getting involved in a fight without calling him first, I’ll be out like a light.”

She shook her head. “That’s not what I meant.”

Following her gaze Altair bit his lip. His trousers did nothing to hide how painfully aroused he was. He’d gotten so used to being hard because of Maria it had completely slipped his mind. With a sigh, he rubbed the back of his head. “Ah. Well, I suppose you’ll have to give me a moment. I’m sure if I think of your boss in a dress, the problem will take care of itself.”

Tentatively, Maria licked her lips and palmed the straining bulge. Altair groaned as the heat of her hand penetrated his clothes and made him even harder. “I—I could take care of that for you, if you need,” she murmured shyly.

Her words sent another stab of pleasure right into his cock. “Maria, stop. You don’t have to.”

“Why not? You did it for me.”

“Yes, but I’m a ‘depraved arsehole with an exhibitionist streak,’ remember?” he replied, smirking playfully, even as his hips jerked against her.

Pursing her lips, she proceeded to stroke the hard length through his trousers, finding herself enjoying the low moan that escaped his lips. She leaned forward, lips just brushing his, “Yes, but turnabout’s fair play, isn’t it?”

Altair really, really wanted to take her up on her offer. Her hand felt amazing even outside his clothes, and his cock could certainly use the relief, but her choice of words made him pause. Yes, turnabout was fair play. Escpecially when it came to requesting sexual favors in exchange for signing a certain contract. Because, while Altair had basically laid claim to her, Maria still worked for Robert de Sable. Much as he had come to respect her, even adore her, he couldn’t fully trust her just yet. She was a loyal person, even to those who didn’t deserve it, and he wasn’t sure he could tell her about her boss’ crimes just yet. She’d shown him sides to her he’d never expected, but she was still far too tangled in the web of lies. She’d warmed to him, yes, but desperation could make even the strongest of men do the unthinkable. For all he knew, she’d use the opportunity to try and coerce him to sign the contract, and nothing good could come from her bringing that up while his control was so strained.

Best case scenario, it would kill the mood so thoroughly that he wouldn’t need release.

Worst case, he’d lose it completely and pin her against the wall, taking her roughly and gaining his release that way, without her consent.

Unthinkable case scenario, she’d make him so desperate he’d agree to sign, and then everything would be ruined.

No. Tempting as her offer was, Altair wouldn’t risk eight years of hard work over a handjob in an alley. He’d been happy to make her cum, but he wouldn’t allow her that sort of power over him until he was sure he could trust her.

And he steadfastly refused to think about the fact that the idea of her betraying him made his heart clench in ways he hadn’t known since he’d first heard about Kadar’s death.

Pulling her hand away, Altair said, “I think we’ve had enough naughtiness for one night, don’t you?” before walking towards the street, gesturing for her to follow while thinking of everything he could to cool his blood and get his mind back on track. Robert de Sable in a dress. Al Mualim’s face. Kadar’s funeral.

If he’d turned around, he wouldn’t have missed the confused and disappointed look that briefly crossed Maria’s face. But it only lasted for a moment before she forced her professional mask into place and followed him into the light.

XXX

The ride back to the house had been silent, and Altair had escorted her to her room with little fuss. Smiling, he gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “Sleep well, Maria,” he said, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

She gave him a small, hesitant smile. “You too,” she murmured before slipping inside her room.

Entering his own chambers and making sure the door was securely locked, Altair pulled out his phone, dialing a number he’d memorized. It changed every two weeks or so, and he was grateful for his exceptional memory, as it was too dangerous to write down. After a half dozen rings, an irritated voice answered in Arabic, **“Hello?”**

**“Desmond. Sorry to bother you, but there’s something I need you to do for me.”**

**“Ugh, what now?”** he grumbled.

A tiny grin formed on his face. He’d really been putting poor Desmond through the ringer the past couple of years. But the former bartender had volunteered for the task, and he’d certainly gone above and beyond the call of duty. **“When you get to work tomorrow, I need you to find me everything you can on Maria Thorpe. I especially want a list of associates at Templar Industries, including friends, enemies, and anyone she talks to regularly.”**

 **“Those will be short lists,”** he yawned. **“She doesn’t really talk to anybody besides de Sable. Enemies might be longer, but I don’t think the gossiping harpies in reception count.”**

**“Well, here’s a longer one; I need to know every project she’s worked on with de Sable, and what her contributions were.”**

His groan was that perfect blend of “Why me?” and “Fuck you, Altair, you are such a bastard” that he’d grown familiar with. **“You do realize that with my Templar Industries job, plus my work for you, I have a hard enough time getting any sleep as it is?”**

**“I need this, Desmond. I need to know if Maria’s someone I can trust.”**

**“She is.”**

Altair blinked, eyebrows raising in surprise. Desmond never sounded that emphatic, at least not when it came to trusting others. He’d been used and betrayed too many times. **“What makes you say that?”**

**“Because she attended Clay’s funeral.”**

**“And that makes you believe that she’s not under de Sable’s thumb?”**

**“Considering how he and the entire PR department ordered her not to go? Yes.”**

Desmond’s statement, while simple, made his heart stutter in his chest. **“Really?”**

 **“Yeah. It was a pretty big to-do after the Subject 16 fiasco,”** he said, practically snarling at the title. **“Maria’s not popular around the office, but even her biggest critics had to give her props for that.”**

Altair smiled, a wave of relief washing over him. **“Thank you, Desmond.”**

 **“You’re welcome.”** There was a pause, then an exasperated sigh. **“You still want those lists, don’t you?”**

**“Of course.”**

**“Fine! Fuck, the things I do…”** he muttered before hanging up.

Collapsing on his bed, Altair openly grinned. Maria had defied de Sable. She’d risked a PR nightmare and fallout with her boss to attend the funeral of a man she’d likely met only a handful of times. It wasn’t much, but that small act of humanity and open rebelliousness was like a balm to his soul.

Maria Thorpe was trustworthy.

She could be saved from de Sable.

Unfortunately, he now really regretted turning her down in the alley, because with the question of her true loyalties answered, his cock was once again demanding release. He could almost guarantee Maria’s generous offer was now off the table, though. Why hadn’t he called Desmond sooner? Oh, right, because before tonight her loyalty hadn’t actually been his biggest concern.

With a groan, he headed to the shower. At this rate, he’d need to start shipping in his bath water directly from the Arctic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy I finally gave you a really steamy chapter? Hope you like. "Closer" is definitely the best song to set a sexy dance scene to, at least for a couple like Altair and Maria. ;)  
> For anyone familiar with Ouran High School Host Club, pretty much Malik is like Kyouya; charming, but utterly devious, though still loyal to his best friend. Sorry Maria's not a total badass, but fencing experience does not translate to hand-to-hand skills, though I did enjoy having her give Shahar a black eye (if you don't know who he and Shalim are, go play Bloodlines. Or at least watch a let's play of it.)  
> See you next chapter!


	8. Truth and Mixed Signals

Robert sat in his office, going over his piles of notes. Loath as he was to admit it, Maria had always done a good job keeping his desk free of pointless documents. The problem was that it was getting significantly harder to get his plans for Project Eden past her keen nose.

He cursed under his breath. Subject 16 had been an unexpected yet catastrophic setback. The boy suffered from depression and had agreed to participate in the study under the belief that, as such mental disorders could often be attributed to genetics, they’d be able to discover the exact cause and develop better treatments.

What the boy hadn’t realized was that his ancestry had caught both Robert’s and Dr. Garnier de Naplouse’s eye. They, along with Al Mualim, had always theorized that, like muscle-memory, there were certain things our genetics instinctively stored and remembered. Back in the day, Al Mualim had believed they could use such use such a thing to unlock the genetic traits in the descendants of some of history’s greatest leaders, military generals, and inventors, putting such people in charge to lead the inferior masses below them.

Robert had disagreed. He felt that unlocking such memories could lead to chaos. Great minds already existed; the rest of the population simply refused to follow them, not realizing that it was in their best interests. So he felt such research should be used to mold people into ideal servants; remove the troublesome parts of one’s genetic makeup and create docile, obedient followers.

Al Mualim wanted a master race. Robert wanted to make the masses more biddable. Neither were willing to compromise, and the two had split on rather ugly terms.

Garnier had decided that, while Al Mualim had been dead for almost seven years, Subject 16 was the perfect specimen to decide which of them had been right. And while Robert had been pleased when the boy’s resulting insanity and suicide had shown that unlocking genetic memories would bring only disaster, it was also the moment his control over the lovely Maria Thorpe had begun to slip.

Once, she’d been his favorite pawn; intelligent but naive, loyal to a fault, willing to stay as late as he needed to finish projects, and beautiful to boot. Exactly the sort of woman a man in his position not only needed, but was expected to have. She was perfect for keeping his affairs in order, spotting mistakes and inconsistencies, and even having on his arm at the occasional fancy gala. Pity he’d been unable to have another go at that lovely body of hers after the holiday party, but it had been a cruel necessity. He needed a servant, not a lover, after all.

Not that he hadn’t made sure the rest of the company thought she was fulfilling the sexy secretary stereotype. It had been easy to keep the gossip mills going, and the natural jealousy among the staff ensured that she’d come to depend on only him. Isolating her from the rest of the company had been child’s play, as had keeping her under his spell. A kind word here, a thoughtful gesture there, and even a flirtatious touch or two, and she was putty in his hands. No matter how hard she tried to extinguish the torch she held for him, he made sure her heart always beat a little faster for him. After all, an infatuated underling was much more likely to turn a blind eye to his more questionable actions. 

The problem was, ever since Subject 16, she’d had acted as the company’s moral watchdog. He didn’t know what the boy had said to her, but it had been enough that he’d been forced to completely change his methods for controlling her. Her moral compass had come back with a vengeance, and for a moment, he’d actually feared she’d turn against him. Thank God her morals were also something he could exploit. A few choice words about how crucial she was to Templar Industries and a sob story about how all her coworkers would lose their jobs, and she’d been willing to absolve him of any blame. Though having to fire Garnier had been a setback, and hiding the true purpose of Project Eden had gotten significantly harder. It was maddening to put on an appreciative smile every time Maria pointed out a contract or proposal’s ethical ambiguity, acting as the annoyingly persistent angel on his shoulder.

Sending her to Dubai had been the first good thing to happen in a long time. Altair had done him a favor, requesting that she stay in Dubai to “iron out” the contract. He snorted. The man was disgustingly predictable. Set a nice pair of legs like Maria’s in front of him, and he started drooling like a starving hound. And Maria would be too busy fending him off to keep up with the dealings at the office. Throw in the ultimatum of her body or her job and the occasional belittling phone call, and she was probably an absolute mess down there. He wished he could see the way she was tearing herself apart, battling with her need to obey him versus her self-respect.

Desperation was a beautiful look on a woman, especially one as otherwise professional as Maria.

Chuckling, he looked over the proposal from the North Korean military. They wanted to use the technology to create soldiers without fear, perfectly obedient to every order and able to ignore pain. Basically, they wanted a way to brainwash their people further. Crude, but he had to admire their vision, and with their backing, he’d finally be able to get back into testing.

His only issue was that he’d likely have to move to North Korea. Garnier had apparently been quite happy there for the past year, continuing their research under the radar, but Robert had spent almost a decade building Templar Industries from the ground up. Project Eden was his life’s work, but he hated the thought of giving up the power his company provided him.

“My company or my destiny?” he murmured to himself, leaning back in his chair. Because he couldn’t have both. Working with North Korea was the point of no return. The British government, among others, certainly wouldn’t stand for him working with a country that had the whole world on edge. But if he rejected their offer, Project Eden would never be able to achieve its true purpose.

And if he did leave, there were still loose ends to clean up. First, he needed to make Richard King pay for taking away his funding. Overthrowing him as head of Lionheart Enterprises, then leaving the company leaderless as he vanished without a trace would be sweet vengeance for constantly belittling his research. Ordinarily he disdained chaos, but he wouldn’t mind causing a little, just this once.

And then there was Maria. She’d served her purpose, but she knew far too much. She was too much of a wild card to leave to her own devices. Killing her would be the most efficient, but it seemed like such a waste. And despite himself, he’d grown rather fond of her. She was far too moral, but she was intelligent and passionate, not to mention beautiful. All qualities he found inherently attractive in a woman. If he left, he’d have to find a way to bring her with him.

Perhaps she would make a lovely guinea pig. If Garnier could remove that willfulness of hers, she’d truly be perfect. He smiled at the possibilities. Even if things went wrong and she lost that intelligence and passion in the process, a woman with a body like hers had other uses. And this time he could enjoy her while she was conscious.

But he needed to make his decision before Maria returned. She’d never stand for him siding with the Koreans. Though, if she did succeed in getting Altair’s partnership, he could keep Templar Industries and even take over Lionheart Enterprises. He could have them both; he could continue playing at being the generous businessman, using his new resources to further the more benign aspects of the research, then sending the resulting funds to Garnier and North Korea to continue Project Eden. All the while, he’d still have his lovely assistant at his side, once again under his power, humbled from sacrificing her body for the sake of her job.

Yes, sending Maria to Dubai had truly been an excellent idea.

XXX

As she got dressed, pulling on a pretty square-necked shirt, Maria attempted to make sense of last night’s events. The hickey burned bright red on her throat like some sort of brand, and she did her best to hide it behind the decorative scarf she’d purchased the day before. The last thing she needed was for Malik to ask how she got it. Remembering the night before was embarrassing enough.

She’d completely lost control, letting Altair have his wicked way with her, but for some reason, he didn’t accept her offer to reciprocate. He’d been hard as granite and hotter than the sun in her hand, and still he’d walked away.

It couldn’t be that he didn’t want her; he’d made it extremely clear that he’d like nothing more than to chain her to his bed and fuck her six ways from Sunday. And it wasn’t that they’d been in an alley, since he’d happily gotten her off with his fingers in that same alley without a hint of shame. And she was the one who’d offered, so consent wasn’t the issue. So what held him back?

Sighing, she pulled on a nice pair of slacks and decided trying to figure out the labyrinthine mind of Altair Ibn-La’Ahad was not what she needed before her first cup of coffee. If anything, it was going to make dealing with him that much harder. Now that he knew her carefully maintained armor wasn’t as impenetrable as she’d let on, he’d be after her all the more.

Or would he? She wondered, heading down to breakfast. She recalled her mother telling her once “the fastest way to lose a guy is to sleep with him.” Had Altair simply lost interest in her? But she hadn’t slept with him, so it couldn’t have been that.

 _Maybe he’d just wanted to see if he could prove you aren’t as high-and-mighty as you think,_ a part of her mind that sounded uncomfortably like Robert whispered. _You go on about wanting respect, but who could respect a woman that offers a man a handjob in a back alley like some sort of prostitute?_

She shook the thought out of her head. Altair could be a bastard, but from the way Malik had talked about him, and the way the golden-eyed businessman had defended her, such thoughts now seemed ridiculous.

Letting him finger fuck her was very much a heat-of-the-moment decision, with neither of them thinking completely straight. But if Altair did respect her like he claimed, it was possible he realized how likely it was that she’d regret it in the morning.

Such reasoning brought a small smile to her face, and her opinion of him rose a couple notches. For once, she didn’t have a reason to be angry at him. It was a rather pleasant change of pace.

Malik and Altair were, of course, already at the table, Malik looking over the paper with a small frown. Altair held up his hands. “I swear, I had no idea pictures had been taken again.”

Groaning, she grabbed the gossip column from Malik. _So much for not being angry this morning_ , she thought with exasperation, but was surprised to see the photos weren’t nearly as scandalous as yesterday’s. Yes, she certainly looked overly-sexy in that halter dress and gold heels, but the article was more focused on how Altair had started a nightclub brawl for her sake. There was even a photo from the day before when he carried her unconscious body to his car. Despite herself, she smiled at the headline: _Playboy Turned Knight in Shining Armor?_

“Well, at least this article doesn’t make me out to be another flavor of the week,” Maria said dryly, sitting next to Malik and pouring herself a cup of coffee. It appeared she could continue her positive attitude towards her host. “Though I’m surprised the cops haven’t come bashing down your door.”

“The twins were technically the ones who started the fight, as more than a few people could attest that they’d threatened you. And while it would certainly serve them right, we decided to not press charges, so you won’t have to testify in court or anything,” Malik said.

“Despite it being the perfect excuse to keep me here longer,” she teased, pink lips pulled in a small, sweet smile.

Altair gave a sigh of relief, pleased that Maria wasn’t angry at him this time. “Now why didn’t I think of that? Malik, how quickly can we get to the police station?”

Malik chuckled. He’d personally wanted to press every charge he could think of, but with de Sable’s downfall so close, they didn’t need the extra distraction. Though once there was less on his plate, he was sure he’d enjoy exposing the twins for the scum they were. In the meantime, Rauf had assured him that a few of his men would be monitoring them closely, in case they ever tried to pull anything like this again on another poor woman.

“I’m not going anywhere until I’ve had at least one more cup of coffee,” Maria said, sipping her drink. She nearly sighed in appreciation, noting to ask the staff what kind it was. It was rich and flavorful, with hints of spices and just a little bit of sweetness. She was sure it was something obscenely expensive, but she was going to miss the coffee at Altair’s place when she went back to London. Maybe she could find a cheaper supermarket version, though it would probably pale in comparison to the real thing.

“Please don’t go out in public today, Altair,” Malik grumbled, though the glimmer in his dark eyes betrayed his own amusement. “One more article like this, and Ezio will be demanding to plan your stag party.”

Maria chuckled, taking a bite of sausage. “I’m sure he’s been seen with women before.”

“Yes, but none I’ve ever carried off like a sleeping princess or started a brawl for. At this rate, the media will be speculating our wedding plans,” Altair said, tucking into his omelet.

Maria rolled her eyes. “We aren’t even dating.”

“We could fix that.”

“I barely have time to commit to a normal relationship, much less a long-distance one.”

“Then move to Dubai.”

Despite herself, she grinned wryly. “Bit difficult to do my job from here.”

“Get a new job.”

“What if I like my job?”

“You don’t.”

“How would you know?”

“No one’s happy to be a secretary for five years.”

“Executive Assistant.”

“Which is just a fancy way of saying secretary.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and staring at her intensely. “Quit your job and come work for me.”

Maria froze, a piece of mango halfway to her mouth. Malik, who had been watching the back-and-forth like a particularly amusing tennis match, was just as surprised.

“What?” they said in stereo.

Altair wasn’t dissuaded in the least by their shocked response. “I have at least a dozen openings you’re more than qualified for, and I’ll pay you at least double what you’re making at Templar Industries. Besides, I offer much better benefits,” he said with a wink.

Much as she wanted to roll her eyes at his obvious flirting, she was completely flabbergasted at his offer. Was he actually offering her a job? No, he had to be joking.

She looked at him hesitantly. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

His voice had lost any of its levity, instead shifting back into the sure, businesslike tone she’d heard when they’d first met. “I’m not. Name your price, and we can have your new office set up by Monday.”

“And where would that office be?”

“Preferably, next to mine.”

“And what would I be doing?”

“I’m sure I could put you in any number of positions.”

Honestly, he hadn’t meant it as an innuendo. Desmond’s words last night had made him determined to get her away from de Sable, and if her job was what held her back, why not solve that problem by offering her a better one? Unfortunately, he hadn’t realized exactly what he’d said until Malik started choking on his coffee, and Maria’s hesitant expression turned stormy.

“Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad, are you offering me a job just to get in my pants?” she said coldly. _I should have known better than to think I could go a morning without getting mad at him._

He wanted to slam his head against the table. He’d been doing so well, and now he found himself balancing on the blade of a knife. He had not expected their conversation to take this turn, and it took him a moment to compose himself. “Of course not, Maria. I’m offering you a job because I want you at Creed International.”

“And what, pray tell, do you know of my qualifications, other than the fact that I look good in a skirt?”

“You’re intelligent, driven, and go above and beyond the call of duty,” he insisted.

“‘Above and beyond the call of duty?’ If the office harpies have taught me anything, it’s that’s a polite way of saying I put out for my boss.”

“I’m not expecting you to put out for me.”

“So last night’s excursion has _nothing_ to do with this sudden decision to hire me?”

“Of course not!” He looked at Malik pleadingly. “A little help, please?”

Malik was at a loss himself. He certainly didn’t disagree with hiring Maria, but he hadn’t expected him to make such an offer after only three days of knowing her. Still, he put a calming hand on her shoulder. “I think what he’s trying to say is that you’ve shown plenty of qualities that prove you’re over-qualified to be anyone’s secretary, including intelligence, determination, and composure. And a woman like that is more than welcome at Creed International.”

“Yes, exactly,” Altair said, grateful for Malik’s help. “I’ve already told you, Maria, that a woman like you could get a job anywhere.”

Maria’s anger deflated, but only slightly. “I don’t want a job just anywhere. I’ve worked hard to get where I am, and while it’s not the most glamorous position, Templar Industries is one of the leading companies in medical science. What I do helps a lot of people. It’s the reason I’ve stuck it out, and I’m not going to abandon my job just because I’m over-qualified. And more than that, I’m not willing to leave my job over a man, whether we’re dating or not.” Downing the rest of her coffee, she grabbed a scone and got up to leave. “Speaking of work, you’ve done a simply marvelous job distracting me from it for the past couple days, which probably means I’ve got an inbox full of messages.”

Altair sprang out of his seat and stood before her. “Maria, I didn’t mean it like that. But Templar Industries isn’t what you think.”

“We’ve made some mistakes in the past, but that’s why I’ve stayed there; to make sure they never happen again.”

“They weren’t mistakes!” he insisted.

Her eyes flashed in anger, but he also saw a hint of apprehension.

“And how would you know that?”

He paused. There was no way he could answer that without telling her the whole story. Which, to be honest, he was willing to do, but he wasn’t sure she’d believe him. If she did believe him, there was a chance she’d hate him just as much as Robert for everything he’d done for the sake of revenge.

It would be so easy to lie. To say his information had come to him anonymously, that he’d only recently found out about de Sable’s amoral practices. Al Mualim had taught him that it was better to conceal the truth, to say what needed to be said for the sake of control. Another lesson that was useful for getting what he wanted, for excelling in the treacherous business world, but had made it difficult to form meaningful relationships.

But he liked Maria. She’d earned his respect as much as his lust, and he wasn’t going to risk losing her over a misunderstanding. But he equally risked losing her over the truth.

Bowing his head, he stepped aside, allowing her past him. “I’m sorry.”

Maria bit her lip, forcing down the sting she felt. Altair wasn’t telling her something. He’d kept insisting that Robert wasn’t the man she believed him to be, yet whenever she asked, he refused to give her answers. What was he hiding? Why wouldn’t he tell her? He claimed she gave mixed messages, yet here he was, refusing to just come clean with her.

Silently, she strode past him, not quite able to push down the feeling of disappointment when he didn’t stop her.

XXX

Maria spent the next several hours shut up in her room, hunched over her computer, trying desperately to lose herself in work. Yet she couldn’t help but occasionally glance towards the door, furtively hoping to see Altair had snuck on her again. Instead, the door seemed to mock her, standing there completely still and silent. Sighing, she turned back to the computer. Robert hadn’t sent her much to look over, and there had only been a few requests for meetings to be added to his schedule, so even with the unexpected day off she’d had yesterday, her actual work was finished far faster than she would have liked.

Her phone rang, but the number that flashed on the screen was blocked. Usually, she’d ignore such a call, since it was probably a scammer. But as it persistently rang, something in her gut compelled her to answer.

“Hello?”

“Is this Maria Thorpe?” The American accent was vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t quite place the voice. He certainly sounded nervous, though.

“Yes?”

“Listen, my name’s Desmond. I’m…well, I’m a janitor at Templar Industries.”

Ah. That was why he sounded familiar. She could vaguely recall speaking to him once or twice now. One of the few lessons she’d bothered to keep from her father had been, “Always be nice to the maintenance people, Maria. It’s not just polite, it’s necessary. A little respect, and there’s nothing they won’t do for you.” So, while she couldn’t exactly claim to know any of them, she’d always made sure to exchange pleasantries whenever one of them crossed her path. Her coworkers often quietly mocked her for it, laughing about how natural it was that the only people willing to associate with her were the ones whose job it was to deal with trash. But like all the other gossip, she ignored it, refusing to let other people’s opinions stop her from being polite. She’d even made sure that, after every work party, the leftover catered food had been sent down to their office instead of being thrown out. When Robert had questioned her about it, she’d simply pointed out that there was no need to waste so much food, and they’d have to be the ones to clean it all up, anyway. They should at least get the chance to enjoy it.

And perhaps it was her imagination, but she’d noticed her spot in Robert’s office was always extra clean, and any requests for getting something fixed, like broken air conditioning or dead lightbulbs, always seemed to be answered right away. Even Robert usually had to wait a day or so for someone to take care of things like that.

Smiling slightly, she said, “What can I do for you, Desmond?”

“I can’t talk long, but I…well, everyone deserves fair warning, right?”

That caught her attention, and her smile fell. “Fair warning of what?”

“That something big is coming. I can’t give you all the details, but since you’ve been gone, things have been really…tense around the office.”

“Tense,” she parroted, not quite understanding where he was going with this. Of course things were tense; she’d finally gotten a chance to read the article claiming an anonymous source had leaked Templar Industries’ financial reports, which showed money mysteriously disappearing from the retirement funds. She hoped it was just an accounting error, but hadn’t had the chance to talk to Robert about it. And to be honest, she wasn’t sure she wanted to talk to him right now.

“Let’s just say that if the people your boss has been talking to is any indication, shit’s about to hit the fan.”

She didn’t miss the way he’d referred to Robert as _her boss_ instead of _our boss_ , and decided she’d had enough. “Look, Desmond, I’ve had quite the morning, and am in no mood for riddles. So I’d appreciate you either speaking sense or fessing up to whatever prank you’ve been put up to.”

There was a pause, then a short, harsh laugh. “You do not mess around, do you?”

“No, I don’t. Now, if this is a legitimate warning of something, I’d rather have specific details than a vague omen.”

“Fine, but you didn’t hear it from me, ok?”

“Fair enough.” Perhaps he was quitting and wanted to stir up a little trouble. Either that or something really was wrong, and he was about to risk everything by being a whistleblower.

A deep breath, then another pause, as if he were checking to see if anyone might overhear. “There was a meeting on Tuesday. Between de Sable and some military people.”

Maria’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “He had no such meeting scheduled, I can assure you.” Robert was not only fastidious when it came to keeping to his schedule, but he didn’t do surprise appointments. Not even with the military.

“Well, they were there, and de Sable talked to them for a good two hours.”

“That’s certainly odd, but why would that put everyone on edge?”

“Because they weren’t English military. Or American, or even Russian. They were North Korean.”

Her stomach dropped like she’d just gone over the top of a rollercoaster. “Are you sure?”

“I wasn’t at first. They weren’t wearing their uniforms, but I could tell they were Asian and some sort of military. People like that carry themselves a certain way. I was able to sneak a camera into the conference room before the meeting started. I just finished translating it.”

“You translated it?” Maria was surprised. Not that she believed in the stereotype that janitors were stupid, but if he could do something like that, what was he doing cleaning buildings when skills like that were in high demand?

“I’ve got a knack for languages. Korean isn’t my specialty, so it took me a few days, but I finished it last night.”

“Why were they meeting with Robert?”

“They want to fund Project Eden.”

Her stomach dropped. Maria didn’t know what North Korea would want with genetic memory research, but given their history, it couldn’t be good. Hadn’t Malik said last night that the research could be misused? And they certainly wouldn’t care about keeping the experiments safe and ethical. Hell, Clay’s suicide was probably what caught their eye.

“What did Robert say?” she asked, not even caring about the way her voice trembled.

“Do you really want to know?”

Did she? If he told her, and she didn’t like the answer, she’d have no choice but to accept that there was something wrong with her boss. Something beyond stress and occasional poor judgment.

But she’d wanted answers, and here they were.

Taking a deep breath, she said, with all the determination she could muster, “Yes.”

“He said he needed to think about it.”

She wasn’t sure if the feeling in her chest was hope or panic. He hadn’t sold his soul to the devil, but he hadn’t turned them down, either. Her boss wasn’t just making deals with a shady client; he was risking being branded a traitor.

Fighting the risking hysteria, she whispered, “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do?”

“You don’t even know me. I’m Robert’s secretary, remember?” she said, the word felt toxic on her tongue as her voice reached an octave he hadn’t even known she was capable of. Her pulse was racing. She felt like she couldn’t get enough air in her lungs. Everything was turning into chaos, and her professional mask completely fell apart. “As far as the office is concerned, my job is looking pretty and getting him off. For all you know, I could be all right with him working with the North Koreans so long as I get paid!”

“You’re not.”

“Damn right I’m not, but how could you know?! Do you have any idea how much danger you put yourself in?” It hit her that Desmond was risking more than his job. Whistleblowing was hard enough, as many companies were leery of hiring someone who’d publicly outed their employer, even if it was the right thing. But this was even worse; if he’d contacted the wrong person, he risked disappearing completely. It was unlikely the North Korean military would appreciate their plans being blown, and who would miss a lowly janitor? He could end up dead, or worse.

He gave a humorless laugh. “Wouldn’t be the biggest risk I’ve taken. And I knew I could trust you.”

“Why, because I send the maintenance crew leftovers from the holiday parties? That’s not a good reason!”

“No, because you were the only one who gave a crap about Clay!" he said, voice tense. After a moment, he composed himself. "You went to his funeral against orders, and that meant more than you realize. I wish I could tell you everything, but I can’t. But as far as I’m concerned, you’re the only reason this company didn’t go off the deep end ages ago. You’ve kept de Sable honest, whether he wanted it or not, and someone like that is worth saving.” He paused again, and his voice dropped even lower. “I have to go. Do what you want with the info, but remember, you didn’t hear it from me.”

The call ended, and Maria could do nothing but stare into space. She’d been gone only a few days, and Robert had gotten desperate enough to share his experimental, honestly dangerous technology with the closest thing the world had to an actual James Bond villain.

 _I should have been there,_ she thought. _If I’d gotten Altair to sign the contract sooner, he wouldn’t have been this desperate. Every time I leave, something horrible happens._

But something niggled at her mind, refusing to be ignored.

Desmond had said that the meeting had happened Tuesday. There was no way they would have walked in, unannounced, and expected to be seen. They must have reached out in the past to let Robert know they had an offer for him. But there had been no meeting on his schedule that she hadn’t personally booked, and she knew for a fact she hadn’t put him down for a two-hour meeting, much less with anyone military or even Asian.

A horrible thought made her stomach clench. _Robert must have called them and penciled them in himself._

What had Desmond told her, that she’d kept him honest? Was he saying that with her around, Robert would have never considered meeting with the Koreans? Or was he saying that Robert had been waiting for her to be gone so he could set it up?

There were so many questions, but one thing was clear; she couldn’t let Project Eden fall into the wrong hands.

It was like she was standing at the edge of a cliff, looking down into the abyss, but with the sounds of a monster behind her. She could jump and likely fall to her death, or turn and face the unknown beast at her back. Both were dangerous, but while one she knew she couldn’t survive, the other she might be able to overcome.

Swallowing harshly, she came to a decision, walking towards her wardrobe.

She needed to see Altair.

XXX

Altair didn’t even bother to look up when he noticed his office door cautiously creep open. It was just one of the staff with his afternoon coffee. His usually fastidiously tidy desk was scattered with papers, from financial reports to research notes, all from Templar Industries. But he hardly cared about them now. He was busy looking over the translated video Desmond had sent him, headphones securely in his ears, even though he only had a rudimentary understanding of the language coming through. The subtitles and body language of the men made listening rather pointless, but he still felt the need to listen. He’d watched the damn thing several times, but still couldn’t believe it.

North Korea. The world’s most volatile nation wanted Project Eden. And de Sable was considering their offer.

Worse, apparently he’d scheduled the meeting the moment he knew Maria would be stuck in Dubai.

Fuck. He’d been so focused on de Sable wanting to use him to overthrow King, he hadn’t even considered that it might be a smokescreen while he made deals with a cult-like nation led by a certified madman. He’d been overconfident, convinced that he had de Sable right where he wanted him, and now the world was in actual danger.

Malik had been just as horrified. He’d watched the video with him twice, then run from the office, intent on putting together every compromising piece of information they had on de Sable. Revenge, it seemed, was no longer on either of their minds. They’d wanted to make the Frenchman suffer, To force him to watch as everything he worked for crumbled around him, dragging out his downfall as long as they could. Now, with the knowledge that the world was in legitimate danger from him, they needed to find a way to stop him quickly. Leaking the occasional document to the press wasn’t going to be enough this time. They needed to show the world that Robert de Sable and Templar Industries had been rotting from the inside for years. Project Eden had to be shut down for good, and the Frenchman needed to either be put in jail or executed.

They’d thought they were being clever, looking at the long game instead of instant gratification. Now, it was clear they should have just killed him like Al Mualim, back when he wasn’t such a threat.

Yet despite the sudden derailment of their plans and the very real danger to the world, Altair’s mind was on Maria. Because once the video had finished, Malik had turned to him and asked, “What are you going to do about Maria?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? She couldn’t have known about this. Even if Desmond hadn’t voiced his trust of her last night, it went against everything he’d learned about her over the past few days. But how to tell her that the man she worked for, that she’d thought she’d known and trusted for five years, wasn’t just a manipulative bastard, but a full-on menace to the free world?

And to her, he realized in horror. There was no way a man as fastidious and cunning as de Sable would leave a loose end like Maria dangling. Even if she didn’t know his plans, hadn’t realized what he’d been doing, she still knew far too much. If he sided with the North Koreans and became a war criminal, Maria would surely be questioned. And there was no way he’d risk even the chance that she knew something that could put him in jeopardy. Robert de Sable would surely do something to ensure her silence.

 _I’ll kill him,_ he thought, blood burning with rage. _He won’t even get close to my Maria._

Movement in front of his desk caught his attention. Tense from being caught off guard, he looked up, ready to give the intruding servant a good scolding for bothering him, but froze.

 _Assuming Maria doesn’t kill me first,_ he added, pulling out his earbuds and silently praying the woman standing before him hadn’t glanced at any of the papers. He did not want to have to explain how he got all those files. At least, that’s not what he wanted to start with.

She bit her lip. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

Anxiously he shook his head, closing the laptop before she could catch a glimpse of the video. He definitely needed to tell her the truth about de Sable. It didn’t matter if she hated him, she was in very real danger. “Nothing I can’t deal with later. To what do I owe the pleasure?” he said, giving her a charming smile. Acting out of sorts would only make her suspicious, putting her on edge, and he needed her clear-minded to listen to him.

She took a deep breath, but paused, as if she was unsure what to say. He also noticed she wouldn’t meet his eyes, instead focusing on the ornate eagle statue he kept on his desk. Something was wrong. Maria was never this timid. Still, he waited for her to speak, taking the opportunity to push as many of the folders and documents into an inconspicuous pile as he could. Something was on her mind, and he would let her talk when she was ready. He had plenty to say to her, but as she had chosen to approach him, he’d let her say her piece first. Even if he was a little nervous about how uncharacteristically demure she was acting.

Finally, she seemed to decide on what to say, though she still kept her eyes on the statue, gently running her fingers along its golden beak and raised feathers. “I’ve been thinking about last night. How you said I give you mixed signals.”

Cautiously, he nodded. He said a lot of things last night, many of them in the heat of the moment. And, much as he hated himself for it, his mind was filled with flashes of their dance, cock hardening instinctively at the memory of how she’d felt against him as he’d whispered those words in her ear.

She continued, “I apologize for that. I’m used to being decisive and clear, especially when it comes to those I’m doing business with. But you, I admit, throw me completely off balance. I’ve never met a man as utterly frustrating as you. For the life of me, I can’t figure out if you’re a decent but complex man or just another asshole.” Seeming to gain a bit of the old Maria fire back, she met his gaze. “You send mixed signals too. One moment you’re treating me like just another potential conquest, yet the next, you speak to me like I’m the most amazing woman you’ve ever met.”

Altair bit his lip, but was mildly encouraged by the fact that her eyes were immediately drawn to the action. Subtly, he let his pink tongue dart out to moisten them, and felt his pulse quicken when she unconsciously mirrored the action. He knew it wasn’t the time for flirting but damn it, he simply couldn’t help himself when it came to Maria.

“Then, last night, you give me what was frankly the best orgasm I’ve had in my life, yet refuse to let me do the same to you.”

“I didn’t want you to do something you’d regret in the morning,” he replied, subtly glancing at the bright red hickey that was barely hidden by the collar of her blouse. She’d changed outfits, he noted, looking her over quickly yet appreciatively. She was wearing a dark red button-up shirt that hugged tightly across the chest. What’s more, the top two buttons were undone, framing her cleavage nicely and even allowing a tiny bit of black lace to peek out. Her round hips and firm bottom were encased in a tight black pencil-skirt that stopped just above the knee but sported a slit up the side, allowing him an unexpected view of one of her creamy thighs. But what he found most distracting were the shoes; she was wearing the gold heels from last night. Somehow, seeing her in those gold stilettos was sending his mind straight into the gutter. He wasn’t sure if it was the memory of the night before, or the fact that she’d refused to wear a similar pair for that first dinner they’d had together, but something about them just screamed desire to him.

He forced his eyes back up to her face, not wanting to be caught staring, but even that was distracting. Lipstick the same shade as her shirt painted her pouting mouth, and her eyes shone almost platinum, rimmed with smoky eyeshadow and dark eyeliner. Her hair was up in a sensible bun, but a few wayward curls framed her face, softening the sharp lines of her cheeks and jaw.

Yes, she was put-together, but she also looked utterly fuckable. Like a sexed-up secretary from his wet dreams, ready to be bent over the desk and rode hard, begging him for more with every thrust.

He forced his brain to come back to reality as Maria started speaking again.

“I thought as much, and I appreciate it. It shows that, while you have a rather unusual way of showing it, you do have more respect for me than I’d assumed when we first met. I admit, that first day or so knowing you, I believed the worst; that if I gave into you, you’d use me, then toss me aside without even the contract to show for it.”

He found himself smiling ruefully, “To be fair, I hadn’t really done much at that point to dissuade that belief.”

“Very true. But now, I can see that you’re a man with some sense of honor.” She swallowed, and he found his eyes once again on her throat, watching the muscles shift and tighten. She took a deep breath, and her cleavage rose invitingly. “And that’s why I’ve decided that we should stop giving each other mixed signals and be honest about what we want.”

“Which is?”

She walked around the desk and, with only a moment of hesitation, sank to her knees before him. Her hands rubbed up his thighs, and he bit back a moan as his cock hardened at the light touch. “What are you doing?” he gasped.

“I want to go home, and you want me. So here’s my offer; I’ll suck you off, right here and now, and in return, you’ll sign the contract and put me on the next plane back to London.”

Gripping the arms of his chair tightly, Altair was forced to endure a sudden battle between his shock and his libido. “You can’t be serious.”

She took a deep breath, and he hated himself for getting harder as her ripe breasts brushed his legs. The angle she was at gave him a spectacular view of her chest, and the hint of lace from before was revealed to be a very sexy red and black bra. Her pink tongue wet her sinfully red lips. “I’m quite serious, Altair,” she said, ghosting her hot breath over the bulge in his trousers.

An audible groan escaped him, even as he chastised himself for getting so turned on. “Maybe you are, but you can’t expect me to believe you’re willing to compromise yourself like this.” Again, he gripped the arms of his chair tightly. He knew he should push Maria away, pull her to her feet and demand she stop this foolishness, but he didn’t trust his treacherous hands not to bury themselves in her hair and pull her closer. Because as much as he hated the circumstances, the mental image of that red mouth around his cock was not an easy one to ignore.

Maria’s own hands weren’t idle, though. Gently, teasingly, she ran her fingers up and down his thighs before taking hold of his belt and quickly unbuckling it, then untucking his shirt.

He stared at her, shocked. Was he dreaming? Clearly, he’d fallen asleep at his desk and was simply imagining Maria looking utterly fuckable, offering to suck him off in exchange for that damn contract. He subtly dug his thumbnail into his palm, feeling the slight sting as it broke through the skin. _Nope, not a dream,_ he thought.

“How do you know I don’t just really want to taste you?” she murmured, unbuttoning the bottom half of his shirt and trailing butterfly kisses along his abdominal muscles.

“Then you wouldn’t have brought up the fucking contract,” he snapped, even as his hips bucked at the electric sensation of her delectable lips on his body.

Her tongue lightly traced the outline of his muscles, but her voice hardened slightly. “Look, my job is on the line. Hell, the whole company is on the line. If I don’t get this contract signed, a lot of people could lose their jobs. And while I hate to resort to using sexual favors, you’ve made it very clear that you’re not going to sign anything unless I sleep with you. So, I’m offering a compromise.”

Something was going on. He knew he should have checked up on her, but he’d been so concerned with giving her space, then distracted by Desmond’s video. What had happened in the past few hours that caused her to make such a drastic decision? Had Robert called again?

By Allah, Maria didn’t even know that losing her job was the least of her worries.

Altair tried to force down the instinctive arousal she induced in him and said steadily, “I’m pretty sure this counts as mixed signals. You’ve made it very clear that you wouldn’t compromise your integrity by sleeping with me, so I’m not sure what you’re trying to accomplish.”

“A blowjob isn’t the same as sleeping with you,” she said, though he could hear the slight waver in her voice. “I’ve simply chosen to pick my battles.”

“Maria, when I said I wanted you, I meant all of you. I have no interest in signing anything over a blowjob you’re forcing yourself to give.”

“Is a blowjob not enough?” She seemed to think things over, nervously chewing her lip. Her bright, white teeth digging into the soft, sensually red flesh was incredibly distracting, even as common sense raged that this wasn’t the time.

He released a sigh of relief as she started to rise, but his breath caught in his throat when she instead straddled his lap. Wrapping her arms around him and pressing her chest enticingly against his, she whispered in his ear, “Then what if I let you fuck me?”

His jaw dropped, and he could feel himself grow fully-aroused as her incredible legs wrapped around him.

He forced his brain to focus on the fact that she was clearly not willing. It went against every principle he had. He’d wanted to seduce her, to coax her into his bed with promises of pleasure-filled nights and freedom from a man who mistreated her. Instead, here she was, offering both her body and dignity as a sacrifice like he was some dark god she’d been sent to appease.

Just when he was about to push her away she murmured, “I’ll let you fuck me however you want, Altair.” All that common sense and self-control he had simply crumbled as she rolled her hips against his rock-hard member. “I even wore the gold heels. You said you wanted to fuck me in them, right? Just tell me what you want.”

Another wave of arousal overcame him as he recalled the previous night, and he fought to keep his wits about him. “You,” he gasped as she rocked against him. “I want you.”

There was a moment when he felt her stiffen, then she relaxed again. “Then take me.”

He didn’t even hesitate, burying his hand in her hair and pressing his mouth to hers, forcing his tongue past her lips in a dominating kiss. He caressed every inch of her mouth while his free hand palmed her rear and pressed her to his straining erection, groaning as he felt the heat of her core.

It was wrong. It was so wrong and he knew it. He couldn’t even trick his body into believing she was willing, as despite the arousal he felt, he couldn’t ignore the way she remained uncharacteristically docile against him. She wasn’t returning the kiss; she simply allowed him to use her mouth as he wished. Yes, she rocked against him, but it was almost mechanical, lacking passion or interest. Her hands stroked his chest indifferently like he was a statue, not the man who’d made her cum in a dark alley or laugh on a parkour course.

It didn’t matter that it was him. She would have let anyone use her body.

The problem was, as much as it churned his stomach to watch her throw away her self-respect for the sake of a man who didn’t deserve her, his body was aching from her touch. He knew she didn’t want this. This wasn’t his Maria. Something had pushed her to this decision, to offer herself up in exchange for the contract. But there was something so inherently magnetic about her that he simply couldn’t help himself. A dark part of his mind wanted to call her bluff, push her as far as he had to until she either came to her senses or responded to him.

But the stronger part of him, the part that had come to respect and adore and perhaps even love Maria, rushed forth, smothering that dark instinct and cutting through the fog or arousal. She wasn’t some toy for him or de Sable to play with. No matter how much he wanted her, even with her giving him permission to do whatever he wanted with her body, he would not let her become someone she hated.

Pulling away, he forced her to look at him. “I would see your eyes before you do this.”

When she looked at him, his control returned in full, killing his arousal and clearing his mind. Platinum eyes were empty of emotion, as if she’d withdrawn so deeply into her armor that she was little more than a shell. His beautiful, fiery, passionate Maria was nowhere to be found, leaving just a body for him to do with as he pleased. And, much as he wanted to completely blame de Sable, part of it was his fault. Instead of being honest with her about her boss’ true intentions, he’d danced around the issue, allowing the Frenchman to continue to manipulate her, driving her to the point where she’d felt like she had no choice but to give in to Altair’s lust and de Sable’s machinations. The idea filled him with self-loathing.

Maria deserved so much better. Better than Robert de Sable, and better than him.

With a heavy heart, he kissed her gently, barely more than a chaste brush against her lips, then released her hair. “I’m not doing this.” His hands were trembling, his body aching, but his mind was clear.

A hint of determination crept into her gaze, “I told you, I’m willing.”

“Well I’m not!” he shouted, standing up and depositing her on the desk, pinning her there with the solid length of his body and forcing her to keep his gaze. “I told you, I don’t take advantage of women. I’m not signing the contract, and I’m sure as hell not going to allow you to degrade yourself just because de Sable’s threatening you! I—” he hesitated, trying to find the right words, “I respect you too much. Both as a professional, and as a person. I should never have dangled the contract over you like I have. Never should have driven you to this point. But you can’t go back to Templar Industries.”

“Altair—”

“It shouldn’t fall on your shoulders alone to save an entire company. And even if you’ve accepted that burden, I’m not letting you compromise your integrity. Not for a monster like de Sable.” Backing away, he looked at her with mournful, amber eyes. “You deserve the truth. For the past eight years, I’ve been working to bring down de Sable. He’s a menace, a murderer, and now, he’s a legitimate danger to the free world. I have spies inside Templar Industries, and today they sent me hard evidence that your boss is making deals with North Korea.”

Her eyes went wide, and he felt guilt eat away at him as he continued, not even letting her fully open her mouth. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know if I could trust you. A man like him doesn’t keep someone at his side for five years for nothing, after all. But the more I got to know you, the more I realized that you weren’t completely under his control. You’re a good person, Maria. Better than either of us deserve.”

Reaching out, the tips of his fingers hovered above her soft cheek, as if he wanted to touch her, but no longer felt worthy of the privilege. “I want you, Maria. Not just your body, either; I want that feisty, intelligent woman I’ve come to admire. But more than that, I respect you. So, as much as I’ve been dreaming of hearing you offer yourself to me, I refuse your proposal; I won’t sleep with you in exchange for the contract. And I won’t let you go back to Templar Industries.”

Maria chewed on her bottom lip, looking him over thoughtfully. “So, what now?”

He sighed, pulling away and refusing to look at her. “I understand if you never wish to see me again. I’ll put you up in a hotel, or set you on my private jet back to London. Whichever you prefer. But please, don’t go back to de Sable.”

A soft smile slowly spread across Maria’s red lips. “Thank you. For finally being honest with me.”

He nodded sadly. “I’ll ask the servants to help you pack and—” he was cut off by Maria firmly grabbing his chin and turning him to face her.

“I’m not leaving. At least, not until you’ve told me everything you know and we figure out how to stop Robert.”

Blinking, he stared at her in confusion.

She had to chuckle. He was rather adorable when he looked clueless. “I got a call from someone at work, a whistle-blower. He said Robert’s been meeting with North Korea about them funding Project Eden. And the meeting just so happened to have been the day after I’d been conveniently ordered to stay in Dubai.” She shook her head sadly, sliding off the desk. “I suppose you could say something’s rotten in the state of Denmark. Too much was adding up. You told me Robert wasn’t who he said he was, and it’s time I confronted that.”

“Then this was a test?”

“Yeah. Sorry about that.” She looked genuinely apologetic, and Altair found himself unable to be mad at her. If anything, he had to admire her for using his obvious weakness against him. He made a mental note to return the favor later. “If it helps, you passed. I wasn’t sure if you knew about the meeting, but I knew you were hiding something from me. Most of all, I needed to be sure I could trust you. I’ve been manipulated for too long; I had to see for myself that you weren’t going to take advantage of my desperation.”

“You could have just asked me,” he said, frowning.

“And you could have just told me. We’re both guilty of being unwilling to trust. But now, it’s time we stop holding back and work together. I deserve to know the truth.”

Biting his lip, he had to suppress a smile as he conceded to her argument. Malik was right; they were both stubborn fools.

Pulling another chair over to the desk, he offered her the seat before opening his laptop. “Yes. Yes, you do. It’s time I told you everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have no idea how massive the rewrites for this chapter was. It started off fluffy, then I added the North Korean plot twist, which set off a chain reaction of it becoming insanely dark. Like, I wrote it all, then looked at it and said, "Holy crap, Altair's terrifyingly close to going off the deep end. I post this, there's no coming back." Thankfully, I had inspiration close to midnight on Thursday, and I spent the rest of the weekend rewriting everything, basically putting it in the middle of the original chapters' tones. I think it was my fear of disappointing you guys that helped keep me in check, and I'm much happier with this chapter as a result.  
> In the meantime, I hope everyone likes where the plot is going. I promise to have some fluff to break up the heaviness. Horseback riding is in the VERY near future, I think.


	9. Revelations and Freedom

Maria sat at the desk for a long time, not speaking. She’d seen the video, looked over the files, and heard everything Altair had to say about the bloody history between Al Mualim and Robert. It was a lot to process.

She’d spent the past five years believing she was making the world a better place. They’d been developing better MRIs, medicine, and even pacemakers, but to find out that their magnum opus, Project Eden, was actually a weapon? It went against everything Templar Industries stood for. Finally, she understood what Malik had meant by the genetic research being easy to misuse. Brainwashing people sounded insane, but now it also sounded like the sort of thing Robert would strive for. He relished control and order, and what better way to achieve that than by stripping people of their free will?

But what truly made her ill was the revelation that he’d killed Kadar. Maybe not directly, but he’d put the hit on Altair, and Kadar had paid for it. She suddenly wanted to find Malik and give the man a hug. To have only survived because your little brother had sacrificed himself was beyond anything she could have imagined. He’d always seemed so put-together and calm, but how much of that was an act? The pain and guilt must have been excruciating. Did it still affect him? After all, she barely knew Clay, yet his death still weighed heavily on her.

It truly dawned on her that Robert was completely irredeemable. He’d been willing to spill innocent blood long before North Korea. How many other business rivals had been taken out in similar fashions? And could Clay’s death have been intentional? Did the boy know something, or was he just another guinea pig gone wrong? Had any of what Robert told her about Project Eden’s medical uses been true?

Finally, she could form words again. “All this time, I’ve been working for a monster.”

Somberly, Altair nodded, feeling both concerned and relieved now that Maria knew the truth. “I understand it’s a lot, and I know how you feel. Remember, de Sable learned from my own mentor. And Malik and I did many things under his orders that we knew were morally questionable at best, but obeyed regardless. Al Mualim had always been cruel,” he spared a brief glance at his missing finger, “but neither of us realized how far things could go until Kadar’s death.” He averted his eyes. “And I’m no angel, either. I’ve done things in the name of vengeance that I’m not proud of. I have blood on my hands, too.”

Heart pounding, Maria stared at him. “Have you ever killed anyone?”

He wanted to lie. To tell her he was being dramatic, that the blood wasn’t literal, but he had promised honesty, and he refused to let Maria down in that manner, even if she’d hate him for what he’d done.

Instead, he took a deep breath, looked her straight in the eye, and said, “I killed Al Mualim.”

_It had been close to a year since he and Malik had vowed to avenge Kadar. Malik’s physical therapy and rehabilitation had been slow-going, frustrating them both. Altair was anxious to put their plans in action, while Malik quickly grew tired of Al Mualim’s insults at his condition and utter disregard for Kadar’s death. The two forced themselves to pretend to still be enemies, not willing to relinquish the element of surprise. Every insult, every contemptuous look was like a hot piece of coal on their skin, searing and burning. But finally, on a dark night in early September, it was time to put their plan into action._

_The two brothers-in-all-but-blood stood over the old man’s bed, matching glares of hatred battling with Al Mualim’s look of disgust._

**_“I expected someday one of you would be foolish enough to try and take my life, though I admit, I hadn’t expected you both to come for me,”_ ** _he said, eyeing them both critically. His missing eye made his glare that much more intense, and his gray beard gave him the appearance of a dark sorcerer from a fairytale, ready to rain death and destruction upon his enemies with a word. But oddly, looking at him in his pajamas, sitting in bed, an assortment of pill bottles on his bedside table, Altair found the usual shiver of fear the man instilled in him didn’t come. He could finally see his adoptive father for the frail, twisted old man he was._

 **_“Yes, you did a good job making us hate each other, Mentor,”_ ** _Malik replied, loathing twisting his normally calm face into an unrecognizable mask._

_Altair’s own expression was like stone, hard and unforgiving. **“However, you should have realized that even the bitterest of enemies can put aside their differences when faced with a greater threat.”**_

**_“And how do you plan to get away with killing me? Surely, one of you will have to take the fall. I wonder which one will walk away, while the other spends the rest of his life rotting away in jail for patricide?”_ ** _Al Mualim sneered. **“And in the meantime, who will run the company? Altair’s incompetence will run it into the ground, leaving him destitute on the street. And Malik, you’re a bright lad, but you lacked the ability to lead even before you became a cripple. Truly, your brother was the only one who’d follow you, and even he preferred Altair?”**_

 **_“Don’t you fucking talk about Kadar,”_ ** _Malik snarled, lone hand clenching as he resisted the urge to wrap it around his throat._

_Altair held out his hand to hold him back. **“As for the company, we’ll run it together. We’ve already gained support from the shareholders, board of directors, and others who agree it’s time for you to retire.”**_

_Al Mualim laughed, a harsh and hideous sound. **“Retire? Do you really think they’d believe I retired? They’ll know I’m dead.”**_

**_“They will. And they won’t care,”_ ** _Altair said coldly. **“You’ve made a lot of enemies, Mentor, and few friends; plenty are willing to look the other way while we inform the world that your frail health has taken a turn for the worst, and you’ve chosen to spend the rest of your days on a private island.”**_

 **_“One recently sold to us by the Auditore family, who have assured us that you’ll be well taken care of,”_ ** _Malik added, a smirk taking over the fury on his face._

**_“By next year, your heart, such as it is, will have given out, and your final will not only names us the unquestioned heads of Creed International, but will insist on a small, private funeral on the island, and then cremation. No grave, no headstone, nothing to show you ever existed.”_ **

_Altair wasn’t sure if the old man was more furious or impressed by their plan. **“So, that’s it, then? You’ll kill me now, cover it up, then try to run my company?”**_

**_“Not try. Succeed. You can watch from Hell as we take Creed International in a completely new direction.”_ **

**_“I’ve been studying the financials. The company’s been slowly going downhill for years. It’s time to move on from your limited vision and expand.”_ ** _Malik’s dark eyes glittered with pride. **“Kadar always felt we should involve ourselves in solar power. The Middle East is so focused on oil, so it’s an untapped market. The board of directors rather likes the idea. Said it’s time for a clean, fresh start.”**_

**_“In a few years, the world will have forgotten you ever ran Creed International. You’ll fade into obscurity, merely a footnote in our legacy.”_ **

**_“While we’ll rise to heights you’ve never even dreamed of.”_ **

_Al Mualim stared at the pair, realization that he was well and truly trapped finally dawning on him. His two protégées, whom he had trained and beaten in hopes of creating a pair of loyal dogs, had finally turned on their master, ready to tear him to shreds like a weak little rabbit. And like any cornered animal, he immediately started panicking, shouting for his guards and attempting to run for the door._

_Quick as lightning, Altair grabbed the old man by the throat and slammed him against the wall. **“Your guards won’t come. Rauf made sure of that.”** _

_Malik strode over to them, pulling a knife out of his empty sleeve and handing it to Altair. **“You brought this on yourself, old man. If it weren’t for you, my little brother would be alive.”**_

_The last thing Al Mualim saw was Altair’s golden eyes staring at him hatefully as the knife slid into his throat._

**_“Save a seat in Hell for de Sable. He’s next on our list.”_ **

Maria stared at Altair, horrified at the revelation that he, too, was capable of cold-blooded murder. Was there anyone she cared for that hadn’t killed someone?

Altair looked at her pleadingly, “Maria, please say something.”

“What do you want me to say?” she asked weakly.

“I don’t know. But I had to do it. Words can’t do justice to what he’d done. Not just to me and Malik, but to innocent people. We had to stop him, and he was too dangerous to simply have thrown in jail.” He took her hands and was relieved when she didn’t pull away. “Maria, I won’t say it wasn’t personal. But Malik and I, we suffered under him. He tried to twist us into mirrors of himself. For a while, he succeeded. It’s part of what made killing him so easy. But since then, I have done everything to change, to throw off his influence like a horse bucking off an abusive rider.”

Chewing her lip, she studied their joined hands. Altair’s missing finger suddenly made her heart clench. The scar was too clean to have been an accident. It looked old, too. She carefully ran her thumb over it, noting the way he shuddered at the contact. “Did he do this?”

“Yes. When I was thirteen, I tried to run away. I made it into the city before a police officer found me and brought me back. I tried to tell him how Al Mualim treated us, the abuse and manipulation, but he didn’t believe me. Or more likely, he was bribed. This was my punishment.”

“For running away?”

“For telling anyone. A permanent reminder, to me, Malik, and Kadar, that he could do whatever he wanted, and no one would save us. Punishment for running away was a beating. He had his bodyguard break my wrist and three ribs. He said if I ever tried to run again, he’d have both my legs broken.”

“My God,” she whispered, gray eyes wide and sorrowful. No wonder he hadn’t believed in having Al Mualim thrown in jail. After an experience like that, trust in the authorities was likely the last thing on his mind. “I’m so sorry.”

Pulling his hand away, Altair gently cupped her cheek. “It’s okay. I wish there had been a better way. But I swear to you, much as it pains me to let him live, I won’t kill de Sable if you don’t want me to. He’ll go on trial for his crimes, and with luck, the justice system will do the right thing. The English government is much less corrupt than down here.” He tried to give her reassuring smile, but it felt fake, even to him.

Maria stared into his eyes, bile rising in her throat. Was it? Robert had friends in high places. He was charming and intelligent, and while his reputation wasn’t exactly sterling, he’d been able to manipulate her into thinking he wasn’t the one to blame. She’d worked with him every day, thought she knew him, and he’d been able to play to her sympathies like a harp. Who was to say he couldn’t do the same with a judge, or the jury, or even the police? Who was to say that he wouldn’t find a way to weasel his way out of the charges, or escape, and continue his work elsewhere? How many people would suffer if she let him live?

All at once, the full weight of everything she’d learned hit her. Her throat tightened, her breath caught, and her eyes stung as tears formed and spilled over onto her cheeks.

Altair noticed the tears welling up in her eyes and pulled her against him, dragging her out of her chair to cradle her against his chest. She buried her face in his shoulder, and her body shook with tears, warm wetness spreading across his shirt as she released what was possibly years of pent up emotion. Awkwardly, he rubbed her back, whispering soothing words he wasn’t quite sure she even understood. He had no idea how to deal with a crying woman, but for her, he’d try.

Meanwhile, she had to accept the fact that Altair and Malik, two men she’d come to genuinely care about, were capable of murder. True, given the circumstances, it was probably for the best, but was she really okay with trusting someone capable of such a thing? At the same time, her heart wept for the pain they’d gone through. What could it have been like, living in such fear, knowing that they couldn’t escape?

Was that why Altair hadn’t been able to trust her at first? Learning not to trust anyone at such an early age certainly must have done a number on him. And, had she been there, would she have been able to see through their mentor’s lies? She hadn’t been able to see through Robert’s, even though, in hindsight, it should have been obvious. How many people had died because she’d been too blinded by her boss’ sweet words and her own feelings? Clay had just been the first one people knew about; what about the subjects before him? Subjects 1 through 15, what had happened to them? Nothing as spectacular as Clay’s death, surely, but she’d have to go through all the old records and check up to see if any of them were still alive. And if they were, were they still in their right minds? She was certain she wouldn’t be able to sleep well until she met each and every one of them face-to-face.

A million emotions surged through her at once. Anger. Shame. Guilt. Relief. Sadness. Everything and nothing made sense. She’d been used, manipulated, and played, letting her feelings and guilt cloud her judgment. Desmond had claimed she’d kept Templar Industries honest, but had she really? She’d been willing to help Robert cover up his true involvement in Clay’s death. If she’d stuck to her guns, had been strong enough to keep herself from falling for his lies, how much of this could have been prevented? How many other morally reprehensible things had she allowed him to justify that she could have prevented if she hadn’t been so _stupid_?

“Good God, I fell for it. Fell for him. I let him use me, believed all his lies, I…” she trailed off, voice choked as the tears cascaded down her cheeks. She couldn’t even bring herself to care that she was letting Altair see her so weak. Especially since he was holding her so gently, like a child that had awoken from a horrible nightmare. Except it wasn’t a dream, and it was far from over.

Through her tears, the logical part of her brain did what it did best; take stock and prioritize what had to be done. First, they needed to stop Robert. She still had de Naplouse’s proposal, research notes, and Robert’s signature from Subject 16 saved on both her laptop and a flash drive. Then, she planned on going over everything Altair had accumulated with fresh eyes and a fine-tooth comb for irregularities and any sign of his criminal activities.

Next, she needed to figure out who else was involved with the plan and separate them from those that had no idea. So many were going to lose their jobs because of this, as there was no way Templar Industries was coming back from a blow like this, but she could hopefully at least prevent innocent people from going to jail. She also needed to check the financials and make sure Robert hadn’t been taking his funding out of the pension funds or benefits.

Thirdly, she needed to get her own affairs in order. There was no way she wouldn’t be questioned, given her proximity to Robert. Given their relationship and how she’d helped cover his ass, she wouldn’t be surprised if she ended up in jail, too. Hell, if outing her involvement was the only way to ensure he couldn’t worm his way out of everything, she’d gladly make that sacrifice.

If all that failed, she might just have to accept that killing Robert was the only way to protect the free world.

Finally, her tears stopped, and Maria took a deep breath, lifting her head to look at the man who’d allowed her to use him as a handkerchief. “I guess I’m out of a job, huh?”

“My offer is still on the table. Creed International could use someone like you.” Altair didn’t stop rubbing her back. Despite himself, he found the action soothing his own nerves.

She laughed hollowly. “Even if I hadn’t just been seen on the cover of multiple tabloids as your latest paramour, I doubt it would look good to hire the former secretary of a war criminal.”

“I don’t care. The press can say what they like, but you’ve more than earned any position at Creed International you like.”

She sighed, resting her head against his shoulder. A few days ago, she’d have revolted at the very idea of sitting in the man’s lap. Now, she found she couldn’t bring herself to get up. “I’m not sure.” Even if she didn’t end up on trial, was working with Altair really what she wanted? It felt like she understood him better, yet she realized just how little she really knew about him.

Hesitating, Altair said, “I know I’ve put you through a lot. Some of it intentional, but much of it not. And I won’t delude myself by saying you’ve put up with it all for anything but the contract. But my respect for you is real, and if you won’t work for me, then I’ll help you help you find another job. Like I said, Ezio’s party would be a great place for networking; I’d be happy to introduce you to any number of CEOs and businessmen that will be there. Jackdaw Shipping could use your attention to detail, and they make a habit of sending their best employees to the Caribbean for paid vacations. Rook Inc. would kill to have a woman like you on board, and they’re located in London if you don’t want to move.”

A weak smile came to her lips. “I thought you wanted me to stay in Dubai?”

“I do. But you shouldn’t feel obligated to stay here if you don’t want to. I have many connections that can aid you, and I will do whatever I must to ensure you are happy and safe.”

Her heart jolted at his words. “I have a lot to think about, but I’m not leaving until Robert’s been brought down.”

“You’re right. We have a lot of work to do. With your help, I’m sure we can put together all the evidence we need to bring down de Sable.”

“And how will we do that? Leak it all to the press?”

“I intend to give it to King. It will look less suspicious if a European company, especially one connected to Templar Industries, be the ones to release the information. King will be at Ezio’s party, so I can talk to him there.”

“Why wait? Why not send it all to him now?”

“Because, thanks to Al Mualim, King makes a habit of screening my calls and emails. It’s been seven years since I took over, but the old bastard basically salted the earth with Lionheart Enterprises. But he can’t ignore the facts if I literally hand them to him. And if it’s at the party, I’ll have you there to back me up.”

“What if he doesn’t believe you? Or doesn’t care?”

“Then I’ll toss it to the press, along with the information that King didn’t give a damn that one of his companies was planning on selling dangerous research and technology to North Korea.”

“And if, in the time we’ve delayed, Robert sides with them?”

“Now that we know what he’s planning, my people on the inside will be on high alert. They’ve set up cameras and audio devices all over the building, and are monitoring his phone and email. The man won’t be able to sneeze without me knowing. If he does side with the Koreans, we’ll have even more evidence to have him charged as a traitor.”

She smiled up at him. “You think of everything, don’t you?”

“Not everything. I didn’t anticipate you.” Her sexy bun had come undone, and he couldn’t resist running his fingers through her soft hair. Unconsciously, she arched into his touch, enjoying the sensation of his firm fingers massaging her scalp.

“Is that a good thing?”

“Possibly the best thing that could have happened to me.” Altair gave her a tiny, adoring smile, golden eyes soft, making her blush. “Now, let’s get to work. I’ll call in Malik; he’ll want to know you’re on our side.”

His smile immediately widened as an idea came to his head.

“Once we’re done, I think you deserve a reward.”

She shook her head. “I don’t need a reward for helping undo any damage I might have caused.”

“Then consider it a bribe to keep staying here.”

Raising an eyebrow, she regarded him critically. “What could you possibly bribe me with?”

XXX

Maria stared in awe at the pair of horses before her. One was a great, black beast of a stallion, with a mane so grand and wavy she found herself envying it. He stood tall and proud, glittering eyes watching her with curiosity. The light from the stables danced across his sleek onyx coat, muscles rippling beneath the skin. The other was a lovely gray mare, smaller than the stallion, but no less proud-looking and powerful.

Altair lovingly patted the stallion. “This is Faris. His name means ‘knight.’ He’s an Arabian-Friesian mix, and I’ve had him since he was a foal. He’s quite vain; always looks like he’s posing for a photoshoot.”

Chuckling, Maria had to agree. From the moment they’d walked in, Faris had strutted about the large stables, throwing his head back and flicking his tail in a way that simply screamed “adore me!” Were he a lighter color, she’d almost imagine Altair had been turned into a horse.

The mare whinnied loudly, and Altair soothingly stroked its nose. “I haven’t forgotten you. This is Lamia. She’s a Barb horse, and wonderfully intelligent, though rather independent. Not to mention, she can be a bit jealous if she thinks I’m not paying enough attention to her.”

Maria was utterly enchanted. If this was Altair’s idea of a bribe, she had to say, it was working. “She’s beautiful. They both are.” Cautiously, she held out a carrot to Faris, keeping her palm flat and remaining still and quiet. The horse eyed her for a moment, then eagerly snatched up the carrot, thick, black lips tickling her palm. She giggled, and once he had swallowed the crunchy treat, immediately started nudging her for more. With a grin, she stroked his nose, giving him a little scratch on his snout, which made him lean further into her hand.

Altair was surprised but pleased. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him take to a stranger so quickly. He’s easily bribed with carrots to approach, but it usually takes longer for him to allow someone to touch him. He’s certainly never been this nice to any woman I’ve brought here.” He shrugged ruefully. “The last woman I introduced him to, he ended up biting off a chunk of her shirt. And that was on one of his nicer days.”

She couldn’t quite keep the teasing smile off her face. “How long did that relationship last?”

“We broke up by the end of the day. She insulted Malik.”

“Sounds like he’s is a good judge of character.”

“Most animals are. My friend Connor often says if his animals don’t like someone, they’re not to be trusted.”

“Perhaps I should have introduced Faris to Robert.”

Altair laughed while Maria gently ran her hand along the stallion’s neck. Two servants approached with the horses’ gear, as well as a couple of baskets. “I’ve asked the cooks to prepare us a picnic. You haven’t had dinner with me since that first night, and I’m not letting you get away with it a third time.”

She grinned, giving Faris a scratch under his chin which he seemed to enjoy immensely. “How do you know I won’t steal your horse and race off into the sunset?”

“My horses would never abandon me.”

“I don’t know,” she said as a stable hand strapped on his saddle. “This one seems quite taken with me.”

“I don’t blame him.”

Apparently jealous of all the attention Faris was getting, Lamia trotted over to Maria, nudging her with her nose and whinnying loudly. Maria laughed and turned her focus to the gray mare, stroking her thick mane and petting her cheek.

This was a vision Altair never wanted to forget. The most beautiful woman he’d ever met, surrounded by his favorite horses, a bright and genuine smile on her face as the two competed for her affections. She’d changed out of her heart-stopping secretary outfit into a gray tunic, brown leggings, and knee-boots. A black leather belt hung low around her hips, and her hair was once again up in her practical braided bun. Somehow, she was as much a knockout in such a casual outfit as when she was trying to be sexy. Though, it had certainly been amusing to see Malik’s face when he realized just how Maria was dressed when he’d joined them in the office. It was even funnier when Maria hugged him, pressing her ample chest against him, making the man blush and do his level best not to stare down her shirt. So funny, in fact, that Altair hadn’t even been all that jealous. Okay, he’d been a bit jealous, but seeing his brother completely at a loss for words at Maria’s attire had diluted the feeling.

As if summoned by the thought, Malik walked in, Maria gracing him with a smile. “Joining us?”

“Tempting, but no. I can’t chaperone you two all the time. And I want to look over everything again. The Subject 16 research you provided will be invaluable, and I want to make sure our case is airtight. I don’t intend to leave de Sable with a single loophole.”

She bit her lip guiltily. “You’re not mad that we’re leaving you to do that alone?”

The one-armed businessman smiled reassuringly. “Maria, in a single day you’ve had to face the realization that everything you’ve worked for was a lie, then spent the past four hours helping us go through every piece of evidence we have against your company. And that’s on top of putting up with the Novice for the past week. You need this, if only to stem the years of expensive therapy you’ll likely need if you choose to stick around.”

Altair glared at him, though it lacked heat. “You could have just said she’d earned a break.”

“I thought we were trying to be more honest with her?”

“Honesty does not mean insulting me.”

“I disagree.”

“Boys,” she interrupted, “I appreciate the break. And the honesty. But I could do without the arguing.”

“Fair enough,” Malik said, watching her climb aboard Lamia with ease. “Just remember, no matter how much he annoys you, there’s no point in leaving him in the desert. He knows the area too well and will be back within the hour. He’s like a pesky cat.”

Altair mounted Faris, giving his friend a dirty look. **“I hate you some days,”** he grumbled.

**“The feeling is mutual. Now go woo your woman before she gains some sense and realizes she can do better.”**

**“Someone like you?”**

**“Exactly.”**

**“You won’t steal her away that easily.”**

**“That a challenge?”** he teased.

“You do realize that it’s obvious you’re talking about me when you switch into Arabic, right?” Maria quipped.

“You’re right, that was rude.” Altair smirked wickedly, “I promise we’ll keep any discussions of inviting him for a threesome in English.”

She blushed, and Malik face-palmed. “Fuck you, Novice,” he growled.

“That’s the benefit of a threesome; you and Maria can take turns,” he said with a wink.

“Get out of here before I wring your neck!”

Laughing, Altair snapped the reins, and Faris dashed out of the stables. Maria quickly followed, not quite able to bring herself to look at Malik as she passed. She knew it was a joke, but good lord, she was not prepared for the images that put in her head when she wasn’t even sure she was ready for one of them in her bed.

She and Lamia quickly caught up to Altair, slowing down to a trot alongside him. Thankfully, the exhilaration of riding such a marvelous horse had erased her embarrassment, replacing her blush with an excited smile. Altair studied her form appreciatively.

“How long have you been riding, Maria?”

“Since I was eight. My parents were rather…distraught that their daughter was such a reckless tomboy, always running off to play at being a knight and coming home dirty. They wanted me to be more elegant and refined. Horseback riding was the one activity that pleased both their sensibilities and my own.”

“You seem perfectly elegant and refined to me.”

“Not as a child, though I did mellow out a bit as I got older. But I’m still not as ladylike as they’d hoped, even when I did try to please them.” She sighed wistfully. “The farm they had me take lessons at was absolutely beautiful. They had Shire horses, Appaloosas, Mustangs, and even a Clydesdale. I think I made it my goal to ride every horse they owned. By university, my parents had given up trying to make me into a proper young woman, so I worked in the stables every summer until I graduated. The farm became almost a second home to me. Then I got my job at Templar Industries, and I’ve only had time for the occasional visit.”

“Then we must make up for lost time.” He pointed to an oasis not far off. “Race you to the picnic spot?”

She grinned at the challenge. “What’s the prize?”

“If I win, I get a kiss. If you win, I’ll let you kiss me.”

“That sounds like a terrible prize,” she said, wrinkling her nose. Though not quite opposed to kissing him anymore, she wasn’t going to just give them away. He had to earn it. “How about if I win, I get to ride Faris back?”

He hesitated. Faris certainly liked her, but the stallion was notoriously temperamental, usually only listening to Altair’s commands. Plus, it would likely be dark by the time they packed up to return to the mansion. He didn’t want to risk Maria getting hurt.

But it was hard to refuse the Englishwoman anything, and he did so love a challenge.

“Fine. Ready, set, go!”

XXX

The oasis was small but lovely, containing a small pool of fresh water shaded by palm trees and surrounded by bright flowers and hearty ferns. The horses eagerly drank from the pool, withers sweaty and eyes bright from the exhilarating race. It had been a close contest, but Faris’ longer strides had made the difference. Still, Maria hadn’t minded awarding Altair a quick kiss when they’d arrived; he had the advantage of a faster horse and experience riding in the desert, after all.

As they dined on the blanket, Maria found herself surprisingly relaxed, considering the revelations of the day. Perhaps it was exhaustion from everything that had happened, or it was simply the peaceful atmosphere of the oasis. The setting sun was still warm, but the shade of the trees made it infinitely more bearable. The sweet scent of the desert blooms blended with Altair’s natural musk and the lingering scent of horse, soothing her senses.

“How are you feeling, Maria? Do you need any water?”

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “I’m fine, Altair. I promise not to pass out on you this time.”

“Good. Carrying an unconscious woman is significantly harder on horseback than in a car.”

“You know this from experience?”

“No, but I’d rather not find out.”

She chuckled, popping a cherry tomato into her mouth. Dinner had been simple, consisting of warm cuts of meat, a salad, wine, assorted fruits and cheeses, and a selection of small pastries for dessert. Smiling, she leaned against Altair’s chest, enjoying the way his arm wrapped around her shoulder. As far as she was concerned, this was much more romantic than going to some fancy restaurant.

“Tell me a secret about yourself,” he whispered in her ear, breath fanning across the sensitive skin and making her shiver.

“Why should I do that?”

“I’ll tell you one of mine in return.”

She thought it over. She did wish to learn more about him. It seemed every time she thought she had him pinned down, he gave some revelation that completely changed her opinion on him. “What would you like to know?”

He considered for a moment. “Why did you take up fencing? It’s not a common sport.”

She sighed. “Honestly? It was the closest I’d ever get to being a knight. I’d spent my childhood playing with the other girls, pretending to be the fearless crusader slaying the dragon that threatened them. I suppose fencing let me relive that a bit.” She chuckled, “Childish, I know.”

“Not really. You grew up wanting to be the protector, to cut down those who might threaten those you love. We all do things that let us relive those moments.” He softly kissed her hair. It was nice, being able to be so casually affectionate with her. Like she’d finally chosen to lay aside her armor and let him worship the vulnerable yet remarkable woman inside. “You and Malik should have a match. He doesn’t compete anymore, but he practices regularly. I’m sure he’d appreciate having you as an opponent. He hates bouting with me; he claims I lack the refinement to make his time worthwhile.”

Mulling it over, she decided she’d have to take him up on that. How often did one get the chance to learn from an Olympian, even a retired one? Her coach had spoken highly of him before the accident, having had the chance to bout with him once. Perhaps they could schedule something for tomorrow before breakfast.

“And what about you? What childhood fantasies do you cling to?” she asked, twining her fingers between his.

“I don’t have any. Even before Al Mualim, most of my youth was spent preparing for the business world. I studied, I trained, and I learned. I only really played on the rare occasions I visited Ezio’s family.”

“There must have been something,” she insisted.

Biting his lip, Altair whispered, “I’ve always wanted a family.”

Maria looked up at him as best she could from her position against his chest. Seeing he had her attention and was unlikely to be able to charm his way out of it, he continued, “I’d play house with Ezio’s sister, Claudia. I always claimed she’d begged me, but often I was the one who asked her. I’d play the father, and she’d be the mother, and her dolls would be our children. I’d sit at the table with the newspaper while she pretended to cook, and we’d play with our kids and read them stories and scold them for not eating their vegetables. It was nice.”

“You never talk about your parents.”

He lay back on the blanket, gently tugging her down with him. “I never knew my mother. Complications in childbirth might not be common today, but that doesn’t mean they don’t still happen, unfortunately.”

“What about your father?”

His forehead wrinkled in thought. “My father was a quiet man, not the sort to talk about his feelings. Busy, too, so we never got to spend that much time together. I think it also hurt him, looking at me and being reminded of my mother.” He leaned back on the blanket, pulling her down with him, watching the stars slowly start peeking out into the darkening sky. “Much of my early years, it felt like I had no family. Then he died, and I really didn’t have one.”

Maria turned around so she could fully face him, laying on his chest. “Surely you must have some fond memories of him? My father and I don’t get along, but I can still think of a few happy moments.”

Altair thought it over. “I suppose my love of heights does come from him. Whenever he took me places, he’d always make time to bring me to the top of the tallest building in the city. And he did encourage my artistic talent. Ezio’s mother often told me that my mother had been a wonderful artist. Father would bring me books full of famous paintings and always made sure I had all the sketchbooks and pencils I could ever need.”

“I’d like to see some of them.”

“Is that an invitation to draw you like one of my French girls?”

She smacked his chest but blessed him with an amused smile. “Seems my initial opinion of you wasn’t completely off.”

“Is that a good thing?” he asked, rubbing his chest and giving her an exaggerated pout.

She rolled her eyes and brushed her lips against his, but pulled away before he could deepen the kiss. “Maybe. It’s comforting, if a little annoying.” She sat up and took a sip of wine. “Did your father teach you to ride, too?”

A look of consideration made his brow wrinkle. “Yes. I suppose he was a bigger influence in my life than I gave him credit for. Horseback riding kept me sane, once I was under Al Mualim’s thumb; it was one of the few pleasures I was permitted.” A sad smile came to his face. “The old man thought it was good practice, having such control over an animal. I just enjoyed how it allowed me to escape. I used to imagine mounting a horse and riding off into the desert, not stopping until I fell off the far end of the world. I couldn’t run away, but when I was on a horse, I was free.”

Maria set down her glass and gave him a soft smile. “My father taught me to always be polite to everyone, no matter their position. I do believe that’s saved my life. And while they wished I was more feminine, they never believed that I shouldn’t be smart. When I first entered school, I was already well above everyone else’s reading level. One day, the teacher scolded me for reading chapter books during quiet time. Apparently, it was making other children ‘feel bad.’ I came home in tears, thinking that I’d never be allowed to read again. My parents threw a fit, going straight to the school and insisting that I should be allowed to read whatever I pleased. Afterwards, they took me to the biggest bookshop they could find and told me to pick out as many as I wanted. Father also gave me my first copy of Arabian Nights, which became my favorite book growing up. Our parents weren’t perfect, but they made us who we are, for better or ill.”

Altair smiled, sitting up and running the tips of his fingers lightly up and down her spine. “Have you had the chance to really explore my house?”

“Not really,” she replied, shivering at the sensation. It was such a gentle caress, yet her skin was always so sensitive to his touch.

“Then you haven’t seen the library?”

“You have a library?”

His grin widened, and his golden eye gleamed with delight. “Does this mean I get to pull a Beauty and the Beast and gift you an enormous library?”

She threw back her head and laughed. His eyes homed in on her swan-like neck, and swiftly dipped down and brushed his lips over the soft skin. He felt as much as heard her breath catch, and smirked wickedly.

He did still owe her for her little test in the office, didn’t he?

Pulling her into his lap, he traced his tongue up the pale column of her throat before peppering her jawline with teasing kisses. She whimpered when he pulled away, blood rushing down to his loins at the way her cheeks flushed and her lips were ever-so-slightly parted.

He gave her a smoldering smirk, and Maria immediately felt heat between her thighs. It was so much like the look he’d had when he’d pleasured her in the alley last night, all sin and temptation and promise. She unconsciously licked her lips, and Altair immediately ducked down to claim them. He tasted of the sweet fruits and wine they’d indulged in, and she found she couldn’t resist kissing him back. She nibbled on his bottom lip, and he moaned as she soothed the sting with her tongue.

Not one to miss an opportunity to touch her, Altair slid his hands down to her firm rear, squeezing the cheeks and pressing her against his hardening length. He refused to take her tonight; it had been a long and tumulus day for them both. She hid it well, but he knew she was still reeling from the revelations of the day. Taking her to bed would be a mistake.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t have some fun, and it certainly didn’t mean he wasn’t going to hear her beg again. And like Malik said, she needed a positive experience to help ward off the day’s trauma, and what was more positive than a good orgasm?

As he slipped his hands beneath her tunic, relishing the feel of her firm muscles under soft skin, he again marveled at how remarkable she truly was. Most women couldn’t resist his charms. Those that did were typically either lesbians or in a happy, monogamous relationship. She was the sort of strong, self-assured woman he admired, like his cousin Claudia or her friends Aveline and Evie. Every moment with Maria, whether they were fighting, kissing, or simply talking fulfilled him in ways that he was unfamiliar with, yet found himself wondering how he’d ever gone without. Not even Adha had made him feel like this.

The thought of his ex-girlfriend made him frown. That had, quite frankly, been his messiest break-up. The heiress of a major oil corporation, Al Mualim had set them up in hopes of forming an alliance. Altair had been reluctant until he found her to be just as rebellious as he was. She’d encouraged him to ditch meetings and functions to go to parties and illicit rendezvous, and he’d relished the freedom, as Al Mualim couldn’t punish him for it. After all, he was solidifying her family’s cooperation. They’d run wild, and he mistook that freedom she gave him for love.

Then Kadar died, and things soured quickly.

Maria noticed his change in mood, and cupped his cheek, bringing his focus back to earth.

“Sorry,” he murmured, giving her a small smile. “Got lost in the past.”

She unzipped his hoodie, pushing off his shoulders, then trailed her long fingers down his sculpted chest. He shivered as she gently scratched his nipple through the thin material of his tank-top, and her lips quirked into a sensual smirk. “Then let me bring you back to the present,” she said.

With a groan, he allowed her to take the lead, sucking along the tendons of his neck while her hands slipped under his shirt to explore the taut muscles underneath. He lifted his arms to assist her in the removal of the garment, then found himself insistently pushed down so he was on his back, gazing up at Maria, looking even more beautiful with the purple twilight at her back and the stars just beginning to peek out. She was a goddess, and he was more than happy to bend to her will.

Eyes hooded and smile on those tempting lips, Maria decided to take her time exploring his muscular and newly-exposed chest. Featherlike brushes of her fingertips traced over firm pectorals, circling his nipples until they pebbled under her touch. Little moans of pleasure escaped his lips, and his hands came up to rest on her thighs. Her hands traveled lower, pressing a little more firmly against his abs, and he bucked his hips instinctually. She gasped as the hard bulge rubbed against her sensitive core, and she rocked her hips in response, moaning as it bumped against her clit. Her own nipples were hard underneath her tunic, and she could feel wetness soaking her panties.

Enjoying the power he’d given her, she leaned over to replace her fingers with her lips. She paused for a moment, just noticing that his chest had a smattering of pale scars across it. They were clearly old, so faded one could hardly see them unless they were up close, but the implications they brought made her heart twist. Soothingly, she kissed one, then another, his whispers of enjoyment encouraging her to travel down lower.

Before she knew it, she’d reached the top of his jeans. She could see his length straining against the course material, and she palmed it, relishing the strained noise that caressed her ears. Altair pushing himself up onto his elbows, watching her with lust-darkened eyes. Gazes locked and she squeezed him gently, causing him to let out a groan that sounded just so damn needy.

“Maria—”

Before the word was out of his mouth she’d undone his belt and jeans, slipping her hand inside and grasping his cock. She gasped at the feel of him; he was hot and thick, and her hand almost couldn’t completely circle around it. She’d only had a few lovers in her lifetime, but she was quite certain she’d never felt anything like him. Pulling him free of his confines, she marveled at the sight of him. At no point had she ever expected him to be small, but his cock exceeded her expectations. He was long and thick, fully-erect in her hands, and her core clenched eagerly, even as her mind wondered if he could even fit inside her. But that question could be answered later; what she wanted to know now was what he tasted like.

Altair was in heaven. He’d spent the better part of the past few days hard because of the Englishwoman, and here she was, finally touching him. Her hand was soft and warm, her thumb stroking along the thick vein on the underside of his cock. Hot breath danced along his length as she leaned in, mouth mere inches from him. Allah, she was making him so hard he wanted to explode.

Still, that afternoon’s incident not forgotten. He wanted her to want him, not feel obligated to give him pleasure. Gently cupping her chin, he lifted her face away from his straining cock so he could look her in the eye.

“You don’t have to,” he whispered, almost afraid that if he spoke too loud, it would break whatever spell they were both under. His thumb stroked her lower lip, and another surge of lust shot through him at the thought of those lips wrapped around him.

Smiling, she caught the digit in her mouth, giving it a slow, sensual suck. His breathing sped up at the sight, and when she released it with a wet pop, she said softly, “This time, I really do want to.”

Without so much as a “by your leave,” she ducked down and wrapped those plush lips around the tip of his cock, swirling her tongue around it like a lollipop. Inch by inch she engulfed more of him inside her exquisite mouth, smirking with satisfaction as he groaned and desperately wrapped his hand in her hair. She was going to have to start wearing her hair loose more often; with how he liked to grab hold of it, all the work she put into keeping it up simply didn’t seem worth it.

Everything in him was straining to not just shove his entire length down her throat. Forcing his hips to remain still, he allowed his hand to do no more than guide her further down around him, fingers tangling in her soft hair. He threw his head back as he felt the tip brush the back of her throat, causing her to gag around him. Eyes squeezed shut, he relished the sensation of her throat constricting around him.

Briefly pulling away, gasping, she took a moment to compose herself. Contrary to what the gossiping harpies around the office thought, she had very little experience sucking cock. But she wanted to bring Altair over the edge, to show him that she would make him lose control, too. So she returned to her task with gusto, relaxing her jaw and throat while she bobbed her head up and down his thick shaft. She explored his entire length with her tongue, memorizing it and licking it like a popsicle.

Altair wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He doubted a woman like her, given her uptight shell and lack of relationships, had given many blowjobs in the past. Hell, it was probably her first. He was both honored, and astounded, as she was a natural. Allowing himself to get lost in the sensations of her mouth, he let his mind wander, picturing her in that outfit from earlier, kneeling beneath his desk and sucking him off with her perfect red lips. In his mind, he pulled her off him before he could cum, immediately bending her over his desk and thrusting into her wet and ready cunt. His hips jerked in response, and he felt himself approaching his climax as she hollowed her cheeks.

Maria was surprised at how much getting him off was turning her on. She felt powerful and sexy, knowing that she was the one making him lose control. Her soaking core clenched, wishing that the hard organ she had in her mouth was thrusting inside of it instead. She rubbed her thighs together in hopes of gaining some friction to bring some relief, but all it seemed to do was rile her up further. Noticing how Altair’s hips were beginning to jerk beneath her, she increased her speed, sucking harder, running her nails along his abs, matching her motions to Altair’s breathy gasps and throaty growls. His hands gripped her hair like the reins of a horse, holding on for dear life as he finally came in her waiting mouth.

The bitter tang of his seed surprised her, but she swallowed dutifully, as her college friends had always told her that men preferred women who did. Besides, it felt disrespectful to the oasis to spit him out onto the grass. Swallowing seemed cleaner, anyway, and more efficient.

What surprised her even more, though, was that he immediately sat up and pulled her in for a deep kiss, moaning as he tasted himself on her. His large hand stroked down her front and the heel of his palm ground against her sensitive core. She let out a high-pitched mewl, burying her fingers in his hair and bucking her hips to get more of that delicious friction.

She was hoping he’d remove her suddenly confining leggings and slip his hand inside to stroke her like he had last night. Now that he’d had his release, her aroused body was begging for hers. Sadly, he instead pulled away, whispering, “We should get back.”

Maria shook herself out of the haze of lust, even as her core ached in disappointment. She watched him redress and begin packing up the remains of the picnic, and she had to fight the urge to pin him down again and demand that he finish what he started. But common sense prevailed; the temperature was swiftly dropping, the horses probably wanted to get back, and there was still work to be done. Their break was over, and it was time to return to the real world.

“You’re right.” Taking a deep breath to compose herself, she allowed him to help her to her feet, embarrassed at how shaky her legs were. He packed up the blanket and food with surprising speed and efficiency, then led Faris over to her.

Raising her eyebrows, she said, a little bit breathily, “I lost the race, remember?”

He grinned, and there was something mischievous in his eye that she instinctively knew she shouldn’t trust. “That doesn’t mean you can’t ride him with me. He’s strong enough to support us both. Lamia can carry the baskets.”

Biting her lip, she nodded, mounting the great black stallion. Altair climbed up behind her, taking the reins in one hand and wrapping the other around her waist. He whistled for Lamia to follow them, and they immediately began trotting towards home at a leisurely pace.

The swaying motion of the horse caused the leather of the saddle to brush against her still sensitive core, and Maria blushed as she realized what Altair had been planning. The hand not holding the reins cupped her breast, squeezing the flesh and rolling the nipple through her shirt.

“Altair—” she gasped.

“You didn’t really think I’d leave a lady hanging after a blowjob like that, did you?”

“I—”

“It’s just that I knew if I took off your leggings, saw how wet and ready you are for me, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from taking you right then and there. So, I found an alternative.” He tauntingly kissed below her ear. “Did you know that some theorize that women love horseback riding because it’s the closest they can get to non-threatening sex?”

She scrunched up her eyes as another wave of pleasure rocked through her. “You perverted bastard,” she mumbled.

“Consider it payback for your little ‘test,’” he murmured, massaging her other breast.

Gripping the edge of the saddle, she whimpered but accepted her fate. Her body was begging for completion, and there was no way to escape his sure hand and the rocking of the horse below her. Blunt teeth sank into her bottom lip as her nipples hardened under his skilled touch.

“No need to quiet yourself this time, Maria,” he said, lips caressing the back of her neck as his hand slid down to slide along her thigh. “Be as loud as you like. It won’t bother Faris, and I’m eager to hear what sweet sounds you’ll make.”

“Ah!” she cried as the saddle ground against her at the same time Altair pressed the seam of her leggings against her clit.

“That’s it. Make those noises,” he growled, rubbing the little bundle of nerves through the thin fabric. She obeyed, her needy mewls and cries music to his ears as he made Faris go faster. By the time the mansion was in sight, she was right on the edge.

Altair sucked on her earlobe, whispering, “Do you want to cum?”

Bucking her hips, she whimpered and nodded, face flushed as she arched against him.

“Then beg me.”

She groaned. She knew if she didn’t, he’d keep her on the edge, dangling her climax just out of reach until she couldn’t take anymore. And if she waited too long, there was a chance that the stable hands or servants would see her cumming at his hands. But she needed release, and only Altair could give it to her. She threw her head back in frustration. _Damn him and his skilled hands and sexy voice!_ Maria thought vindictively. _I’ll get him back for this._

Voice trembling, she whispered, “Please let me cum.”

“Louder.”

“ _Ah!_ Altair, please let me cum!”

“Why should I?” he teased, easing up on the pressure against her clit. “You were quite the bad girl in my office. Why should bad girls get to cum?”

“I let you!” she insisted, frantically jerking her hips against his hand. His arm tightened around her as she nearly fell off.

He seemed to consider it as he steadied her. “That you did.” The pressure returned, and she almost shuddered in relief. “Then I suppose I should return the favor, shouldn’t I?”

A few more hard rubs, and Maria cried out as her climax overcame her, making her slump down in the saddle. Altair’s arm around her waist was the only thing that kept her from falling right off the horse as her bones basically melted. She could feel her juices leaking into her leggings, and she blushed, grateful that she’d worn a long enough tunic to cover the wet spot she’d have.

Catching her breath, she turned just enough to glare at him over her shoulder. He simply gave her an innocent look. “What?”

“You’re going to pay for that.”

“I look forward to it. But for now, we have work to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I'd say Altair and Maria are heading towards a relationship upgrade. And I finally gave you their horseback riding chapter, though I'm sure none of you were expecting the ride back, lol! But it won't be all sunshine and roses for these two; someone's on their way to the mansion. Actually, TWO someones! Anyone care to guess who it is?
> 
> Also, a question: should I rename this story? The title has really been more of a placeholder, but if people like it I'm cool leaving it alone. If you think it should change, I'm open to suggestions.


	10. Fencing and Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm content with these edits for now, so I hope the chapter works a little bit better. Feel free to leave suggestions or comments.

The next morning, Maria woke up in a surprisingly good mood. Despite the embarrassment she’d felt when they’d returned from their picnic, she’d had a productive evening with Altair and Malik. They’d gone over the files, compiling the evidence they would need in order to prove Robert had been doing unethical testing, money laundering, and his intentions to sell Project Eden to the Koreans. It had been heartbreaking to see just how low her boss would sink to see his vision manifest. Yet despite her self-flagulation over not seeing the signs sooner, Altair had refused to let her blame herself, holding her hand underneath the desk and offering quiet support whenever she needed it. By the end of the night she’d been exhausted but satisfied with their work, and even coerced Malik into agreeing to a morning fencing bout. It had been a satisfying end to an emotional day.

Glancing at her desk, she realized that she hadn’t checked her phone or email since she’d spoken to Desmond. Glancing at her messages, she was shocked to discover she had no less than five missed calls from Robert. Trepidation filled her gut as she listened.

“Hello Maria. I’m calling to check on how the negotiations are going. I see you made the paper again, though I suppose being the damsel in distress is a step up from his latest squeeze. I’m sure you’ll be able to turn it to our advantage. Call me back to let me know your progress.”

“Maria, you wouldn’t happen to know where the Solomon files were sent last week, would you? Call me back as soon as you get this.”

“Maria, I’m sorry I’ve been harsh. I’ve been under a lot of stress, and I should never have lashed out at you. Everyone makes mistakes, and I’m sure the press was blowing things out of proportion yesterday. Call me back.”

“Maria, I’m hoping this is just a simple case of your phone having died and not you deliberately screening my calls. I understand I’ve put a lot of pressure on you, but avoiding me is not the answer. Call me back.”

“Maria. If I do not hear from you by tomorrow morning, I will have to assume you’ve either quit or been kidnapped by terrorists. If you wish to keep you job, call. Me. _Back_.”

Smirking to herself, Maria glanced at the time before finding Robert’s number on speed dial. If she remembered her time zones correctly, it would be just after 3am in London. She heard the phone ring before going to voicemail, and took a deep breath before saying, “Hello, Robert. Sorry I missed you. I just wanted to let you know that I quit. I’ll ask someone to clean out my desk in the morning. Oh! And the Solomon files were sent to Mr. G.O. Fuckyourself.”

Ending the call, she quickly replaced Robert’s number on her speed dial list with Rauf’s. She also made a note to call up the maintenance staff to ask someone to clean out her desk. Perhaps Desmond would be willing to do so. She’d have to find a way to thank him for what he’d done for her.

Less than ten minutes later, feeling remarkably light-hearted, she practically skipped down to the gym, pleased to see the men already involved in their workouts. Altair was once again shirtless on the parkour course, while Malik did one-armed push-ups, sporting long pants and a tank-top with “Good Morning. I See The Assassins Have Failed” printed in bold black letters. Rauf was doing dumbbell curls while watching both of them, ever mindful of his charges.

Altair’s offer of staying in Dubai was definitely becoming more and more appealing. She could get used to starting her morning with the sight of such beautiful men.

The bodyguard noticed her first, giving her a wide grin. “Good morning, Maria. Come to try your hand at the course again?”

“Perhaps another time, Rauf,” she replied. “Malik and I have a date.”

Rauf raised a curious eyebrow while Malik chuckled, getting to his feet. “I had everything prepared last night. I’d hate for a lady to be underdressed,” he said with a wink.

“Such a gentleman,” she drawled, fluttering her eyelashes. “It’s not often I find a man who prefers it when I’m wearing more clothes.”

“He’s kinky like that,” came a whisper in her ear.

Maria jumped, turning her head to glare at Altair. “Don’t sneak up on me,” she grumbled, even as her skin tingled as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

Altair smirked and ducked his head to press a kiss to her shoulder. “My apologies,” he murmured against her skin, but she could feel his smirk. “I just wanted to make sure I didn’t miss anything. I’ve been looking forward to watching you two since last night.”

She bit her lip, enjoying the warmth that curled through her insides at his tone. Now that she didn’t have the conflict of interest, it was easier to allow herself to enjoy his flirting. “I’m surprised you’re content to just watch.”

“I told you, Malik finds my technique…lacking.”

“There’s a reason I call you Novice,” the man in question chimed in.

“Rauf should be the director. I’m afraid I’d be biased over which one handled a sword better,” Altair said suggestively against Maria’s skin.

Rauf stared at the trio in horror. “Someone please tell me what the hell is going on?”

Maria giggled and took pity on the poor man. “Malik and I are going to have a fencing match. Would you be willing to referee?”

The bodyguard actually breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank Allah. I heard Altair had invited Malik for a threesome, and you made it sound like you were planning on filming things. I did not want to be involved.”

“You’ve always wanted us to be better at sharing, Rauf,” teased Altair. “Would it really have been so bad?”

“Do you even realize how many of your fangirls believe you two are in a secret gay relationship? There are whole websites run by such fanatics. If they think a woman has come between you, either literally or figuratively, you’ll need a new bodyguard because I’ll be busy exclusively protecting Maria. Besides, none of you need the drama of a sex tape getting out.”

“We’ve both had plenty of women on our arms in the past. I doubt they’re serious.”

“How do you know about these sites?” asked Malik, smirking.

“Claudia told me. I didn’t believe her, but then I saw one, and now I can’t get the images out of my head.”

Altair and Malik glanced at each other, then burst out laughing. “You know, old friend, we could really mess with those girls, if we wanted to,” Altair said, letting go of Maria and sidling up to him.

Malik smirked wider, the glint in his eye somewhere between playful and predatory. “We could, couldn’t we?” he replied, draping his arm around his brother’s waist.

Maria giggled a bit, even as she blushed. “Boys, behave. You have more important things to do that mess with the tender hearts of a bunch of crazed fangirls, and you’re mortifying poor Rauf.”

The bodyguard buried his face in his hands. “Suddenly I long for the days when they hated each other.” When he looked up, his eyes were far more serious. “Maria, if you do plan to stick around with either of these fools, keep my number close. Some of the forums have explicit plans for killing the women they consider ‘threats.’”

The lighthearted mood soured slightly, and she nodded. “You’ve already replaced Robert on my speed-dial.”

“I thought that honor would belong to me?” Altair frowned, though his heart soared at the fact that she’d apparently cut de Sable out of her life.

“Considering he's your head of security, Rauf’s more practical. Besides, if you intend on messing around with Malik, I don’t want to get in the way,” she sighed dramatically.

Altair immediately pulled away from his brother and planted a deep, sensual kiss on Maria’s lips, ignoring Malik’s annoyed groan and Rauf’s laugh as Maria practically melted beneath him. He ran his hands up and down her spine, relishing the little shivers she gave as he rolled his hips against hers. When he pulled away he whispered, “Still think I’d run away with Malik?”

She could barely shake her head, biting her lip coyly as she blushed.

Deciding it was best to move on before Altair decided that her fencing bout was less important than his libido, Maria followed Malik to where the fencing equipment was laid out.

“We’ll go to five points,” Malik stated, and Maria nodded in agreement. Both pulled on their helmets and saluted each other and Rauf before taking their stance.

Maria studied Malik intently. She could already tell that he would have the advantage when it came to reach, with his remaining arm being a few inches longer than hers. And while she hadn’t heard of him competing in years, he hardly appeared out of practice. Most of all he held himself like an expert, calm but focused, waiting for her to make the first move.

Unwilling to wait around forever, she lunged forward, intent on getting a sense of his strategy. Her instructor had often told her it was good to take a few early hits for the sake of learning an opponent’s strengths and weaknesses. Malik deftly parried and countered, landing a square hit right in the center of her chest. He hadn’t even moved his feet, simply using his longer arms to his advantage.

“Malik’s point,” called Rauf from the sidelines.

Reorienting herself, she advanced and attempted another strike, hoping that by getting in close she could get under his guard, only to witness him performing a beautiful Passata Soto, ducking beneath her blade and forcing her to over-extend. There was nothing she could do as he easily reached out and struck her side.

“Malik’s point.”

To say she was shocked and impressed would be an understatement. The few times she’d seen the technique, the fencer had needed to place his free hand on the ground for balance and support, lest he topple over. But Malik didn’t have a hand to spare, forcing him to keep all his balance with his back and knees, making the move look like something out of _The Matrix_.

Deciding to try a different tactic, she went on the defensive, allowing Malik to press forward in hopes of finding an opening. When he extended his arm, she attempted to parry and strike his legs but was shocked when he leapt into the air to avoid her strike, his blade snapping down on her shoulder while he was still in mid-air.

“Malik’s point.”

“You can do it, Maria,” Altair called out encouragingly, though she didn’t bother to acknowledge him. She couldn’t lose her focus, and Malik was clearly not one to allow her a moment of respite so she could form a new strategy.

She was right to be wary, but unfortunately not fast enough to avoid Malik’s sudden, deep lunge that nearly brought him to the floor and gave him the perfect opportunity to land a hit to her stomach.

“Malik’s point.”

Growling in frustration, Maria took a moment to back up and get her bearings. Malik was certainly far from out of practice, and ridiculously out of her league. Back in London, her main advantage had been her speed and aggression, but he simply swatted her aside like a pesky fly. Despite his larger frame, his muscles did not weigh him down, allowing him speed that was even greater than hers.

Deciding that, as she was only one hit from losing, it was time to go big or go home. With a quick glance at the amount of space between them, she charged forward, catching him off guard and allowing her to land a solid hit to her stomach as she passed.

“Maria’s point,” Rauf called, a hint of surprise and even admiration in his tone.

Altair cheered, “That’s my girl!”

When she turned around, she could tell, even through the face-concealing helmet, that Malik was staring at her. A Fléche was a risky move, as it left one open if they missed, but she always enjoyed when it paid off.

Getting back into position, she decided to try a new strategy. With a grin, she took a half-step forward, extending her arm just far enough to lure him into attempting to parry. Instead, she made a quick disengage, circling her blade around his. It was a basic move, but effective, as she hit him square in the sternum.

“Maria’s point.”

Feeling a bit more confident, she switched to advancing again, lunging forward as far as she could and aiming for his stomach. To her surprise, Malik actually spun on the ball of his foot, avoiding her lunge and striking her sharply on the arm, the force actually causing her to cry out in surprise as she fell over.

“Maria!” Altair cried out, rushing over.

“Are you okay?” Malik asked, surprised.

Taking a second to catch her breath and get to her feet, she replied, “I’m fine. Just stings a bit.”

“Malik’s point, and that’s the match,” Rauf said, a mix of pride and concern lacing his booming voice. Altair swore softly beside her, already trying to strip off her jacket. She waved him off before he could get too far, though, giving him a quick thumbs-up to show she was okay.

She and Malik saluted and shook hands before Maria pulled off her helmet, panting. They went over to the bench to remove their equipment, Rauf walking off to answer a phone call. Altair resumed unzipping her jacket, stripping it off and checking her over like a mother hen. “Are you hurt? I’d forgotten how hard Malik could hit,” he fretted, sparing his friend a furious glare.

“I’m fine, Altair. I was just surprised.” Of course, she’d likely have a bruise on her arm before the day was over, but the men were hovering over her as it was. She was grateful she had plenty of concealer in her bag; the sheer sleeves of her costume would do little to hide it at tomorrow night’s party. She smiled reassuringly at Malik. “Loss of an arm or not, you certainly haven’t been slacking. Why don’t you compete anymore?”

Malik shrugged, stripping off his jacket. He couldn’t quite hide the guilt in his eyes as he glanced at her arm. “Too busy running the company. I entered a few tournaments after I’d healed, but I found no satisfaction anymore. I couldn’t stand the pitying looks, nor could I shake the feeling that my opponents were going easy on me.”

“Their loss, then,” she said, smiling. “I’m surprised I even got in a single hit, much less two.”

He smiled. “You’re quite good yourself. The Fléche was unexpected. You’re aggressive, too; not always the best strategy, but so many are too overcautious and cannot handle when their opponent comes at them with such ferocity.”

Altair gently ran his fingers along her bicep, making her shiver. “Are you sure you don’t need anything? I can get you some ice if you need.”

Despite her annoyance at being fussed over, she had to admit his concern was rather sweet. “Some ice would probably not be a terrible idea, but really, I’m fine. I have a high tolerance for pain.”

“Perhaps, but I’m sorry nonetheless,” said Malik. “I’m far more used to dealing with the likes of Altair and Rauf; I don’t usually care about hurting them.”

She gave him a teasing smirk, “If you feel that bad, you can always kiss it better.”

Glaring, Altair pulled her against him possessively. “If anyone will be doing the kissing, it will be me,” he growled in her ear, lips trailing down her sweaty neck.

“Maybe after I’ve had a chance to clean up. I doubt I look all that attractive right now.”

Both Altair and Malik found the statement ridiculous; the sweat made her top cling to her like a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination. That, mixed with her messy hair clinging to her forehead and neck and her skin taking on the glow from the overhead lights, she looked utterly ravishing.

The former winked. “Perhaps you’d like to join me in the shower, then?”

Rauf put his phone away and said, “I wouldn’t. You have barely enough time to clean up and eat before your visitors arrive.”

Maria, Malik, and Altair all looked at him in confusion. “Visitors?”

XXX

“ _Fratello mio!_ It’s so good to see you again!” Ezio cried joyously, embracing Altair in an excited hug.

Maria took a moment to observe the Italian whom she’d seen in numerous magazines, both fashion and fitness. Ezio Auditore was the very definition of handsome; his face was similar to Altair’s, if slightly narrower, and his skin was more olive. Standing a few inches taller, he was dressed in a dark red polo shirt and tight blue jeans, a pair of sunglasses pushing his long bangs out of his face. The rest of his luxurious chestnut hair was pulled back into a ponytail, showing off hazel eyes that shone with a mixture of carefree mirth and mischief. His nose was straight as a blade, and his lips looked very kissable, bearing a smile that was bright and cheerful. She was surprised to see he bore a scar matching Altair’s, the vertical line across his lips the only thing marring his otherwise perfect face. Though, like Altair, the scar did more to add to his looks than subtract.

Yes, he was the sort women the world over went mad for, and he looked like he knew it.

Altair stood there awkwardly before eventually raising his arms to loosely return the hug. “Hello, Ezio,” he said, a small but fond smile gracing his features. “You’re here early.”

The Italian pulled away but continued to grasp his arms. “True, but after seeing the articles, I simply couldn’t wait to come down and meet her!”

“Meet her?”

“The mysterious woman whom you’ve apparently fallen madly in love with,” replied the woman behind them. “ _Ciao_ , cousin Altair,” she said with a smile. Maria was familiar with her face, too; Claudia Auditore was a Victoria’s Secret model, but also a shrewd businesswoman. When she wasn’t modeling, she ran a business called Rosa Amore that specialized in spicing up one’s love life, from adult toys to romance novels to lingerie. She had a dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks, and her face was heart-shaped, but she was clearly Ezio’s sister; she bore the same hazel eyes and beautiful brown hair, not to mention almost criminally good looks. She was dressed in a denim capris, heeled sandals, and a low-cut white tank-top. Even dressed casually, she held herself like the whole world was a runway.

She gave Altair a quick peck on the cheek in greeting, and he returned the gesture, grin a little bit wider. “It’s good to see you, Claudia,” he said affectionately. Turning, he waved Maria over.

“Ezio, Claudia, this is Maria Thorpe. Maria, these are my cousins. I had thought you’d be meeting you tomorrow, but it appears they simply couldn’t wait to be introduced,” he said dryly.

Maria couldn’t help but grin slightly at the hint of irritation in his voice. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both. I trust your flight went well?” she asked politely, extending her hand in greeting.

Ezio immediately seized her hand, but instead of shaking it, he brought it to his lips for a kiss. “ _Il piacere è tutto mio, la mia bellezza_. My flight was delightful, though I would have crossed oceans for the chance to meet a woman as lovely as you.”

Maria’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as a light blush dusted across her cheeks. “Um, thank you?”

Immediately, Altair was behind him, grabbing the collar of his shirt and dragging him away. **“Hands to yourself, Ezio,”** he growled in Italian.

Claudia rolled her eyes and stepped up to shake Maria’s hand. “Ignore them. My brother’s a fool, and my cousin isn’t much better.”

Malik’s voice chimed in, “I have to agree.”

The Italian model grinned coyly. “Hello, Malik.”

He nodded in greeting. “Claudia.”

“I see you’re looking well. Have you been working out?”

“Yes. Just because I only have one arm doesn’t mean I can’t keep in shape.”

“I agree, and what a shape it is. My offer’s still on the table, you know.”

“I’m not modeling for you,” he said tersely. Maria thought she saw the usually serious man blush, but she decided it must have been her imagination.

“Aw, but I’m so short on male models. If you’re sensitive about the arm, we could always photograph just your right side, or even from the waist down,” she teased.

Now Maria was blushing. Given the products Rosa Amore specialized in, she could imagine what kind of “modeling” she wanted Malik to do. She actually felt a little guilty thinking about it; she and Altair weren’t officially together, but she was quite sure picturing his best friend in those kinds of pictures wasn’t something she should be doing.

However, it was also incredibly entertaining to see Malik flustered, and that she could enjoy wholeheartedly.

He snapped, “No way in hell, Claudia. If you’re that desperate, ask Ezio.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Ew. I’ve seen enough of my brother from walking in on his latest dalliance.” Turning, she glared at him. “You have your own damn wing in the house; there was no reason to have sex in the living room.”

Ezio shrugged, clearly having no shame over the matter. “It was closer.”

“Pig.”

“I never thought you’d be such a prude.”

“I’m a lingerie model and I sell sex toys; how am I a prude?”

“Then the sex shouldn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“How would you feel if I banged Yusuf on your bed?” Ezio gave a look of utter horror, and Claudia smirked triumphantly. “Exactly. Keep your flings to your own wing.”

“Are they always like this?” Maria whispered.

Malik sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sadly, yes.”

It was Altair that finally broke things up. “Could you please stop making a spectacle of yourselves in front of my guest?”

The squabbling siblings blinked before looking at Maria as if they’d forgotten she was there. “My apologies, _cara_ ,” said Ezio, who attempted to step towards her again, but Altair jerked him back.

Claudia smiled. “Yes, it was quite rude of us to ignore you like that.”

“Oh, no, it’s no big—” Maria started, but was cut off by the Italian woman looping her arm through hers and pulling her towards the stairs.

“Why don’t we leave the men to discuss their workouts or whatever it is they gab about while you and I hit the pool? It’s frightfully hot in this country, and I simply must cool off.”

“I’m actually here on business,” Maria protested, surprised at the model’s strength, “so I don’t have a bathing suit with me.”

“And of course Altair wouldn’t get you one; he hates swimming, and he’d much rather you be naked in the hot tub.” Maria’s face turned bright red, exacerbated by how casually she said it. “Don’t worry, I have plenty of suits you can borrow.”

Altair attempted to chase after them. “Claudia, you can’t just steal my guest!” It was bad enough that their unexpectedly early visit had thrown off his plans for spending time alone with her; now his own cousin was stealing her away. And not even the one he’d normally have to worry about!

She grinned at him over her shoulder. “Sure I can! I’m sure Maria is in desperate need of girl time, and Ezio needs to discuss the plans for tomorrow’s party!”

Chuckling, Maria shrugged and followed Claudia’s lead as Altair stood flabbergasted in the foyer. She certainly wasn’t going to try and argue. It had been ages since she’d properly hung out with another woman, and the model didn’t seem the sort to take “no” for an answer.

As they disappeared down the hallway, she heard Ezio say, “You’re doomed, my friend.”

The two women shared a giggle as Altair simply replied, “Shut up, Ezio.”

Once the women were out of sight, Malik turned to the Italian. “Why are you here so early?”

Ezio’s face turned serious. “Desmond contacted me about de Sable’s plans. I wanted to know what I could do to help.”

Altair waved him off. “Ensuring King would be at the party is more than enough.”

“Besides, if it weren’t for Leonardo, Desmond and his team never would have been able to bug his office so effectively,” Malik added.

“Nor would we have even known of Desmond’s existence.”

“ _Si_ , but considering the threat the man now poses, I wish to do more. We all do. This isn’t just revenge anymore; this is the fate of the free world.”

The two Arabs had to smile. Over the past eight years, others had been aiding them in their mission in whatever ways they could. Because while de Sable was their greatest enemy, there had been others that had crossed their path; associates of both de Sable and Al Mualim that needed to be dealt with, or just people that were too dangerous to simply ignore. People they found they couldn’t deal with alone. So, they’d found allies; likeminded men and women were willing to work in the darkness to serve the light. Most came from well-off families or ran their own companies, but others they had helped lift into higher positions, both out of necessity and gratitude. After all, it was much easier for men like Altair and Malik to justify being seen with other wealthy folks, casually running into each other at galas and parties, or traveling to each other’s countries for “vacations.”

The Frye twins had kept an eye on things for them in London. Edward got them transportation when they needed to keep a low profile and less-than-legal supplies. Connor was good at covering their tracks. Leonardo and Niccolo had put together Desmond’s team and provided state-of-the-art espionage equipment. Aveline and Claudia used their connections to manipulate events from behind the scenes. Ezio’s parties always gave them an excuse to meet up and exchange information.

Without even realizing it, Altair had found himself part of an odd sort of brotherhood. One which had named him the unofficial leader.

Shaking his head, Altair replied, “At this point, all we can do is wait for the opportune moment.”

Ezio nodded solemnly. “Do you know when he’ll sign with North Korea?”

“We can know nothing; only suspect,” said Malik. “The video indicated that, while he’s certainly interested in their proposal, something’s holding him back. Otherwise, he would have signed without a second thought.”

“Probably doesn’t want to give up Templar Industries,” Altair sneered. “He’s not the sort to give up even a shred of power if he can help it.”

“But for now, the world is safe?”

“Don’t worry, Desmond is keeping an eye on him. The man won’t be able to sneeze without us knowing. Right now, my only concerns are getting the information to King and keeping Maria safe.”

“Is she in danger?” Ezio asked, a fierce light in his eyes. He didn’t like men hurting women. Rauf had given her a high amount of praise when he drove them from the airport; if his cousin had found someone to make his life worthwhile after his revenge was finally finished, he wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

“She’s de Sable’s secretary. Well, was. She’s helping us bring him down, but I fear something happening to her. She knows too much, and he’s not the sort to leave a loose end hanging.”

“You care about her, don’t you?”

“It’s the least I can do; she’s given up her entire life to help us. Until this is over, I want to make sure she’ll be safe.”

“And what about after?” Ezio said, wiggling his eyebrows. “Are you planning on whisking her away on one of your whirlwind romances?”

Altair paused. What would he do after they’d brought down de Sable? He’d been so consumed with vengeance, he’d barely given the future more than a passing thought. Of course he’d continue to run Creed International; he might have taken over as a way to spite his mentor and gain the means to destroy his enemies, but he found that, with Malik’s help, running the company wasn’t so bad. Strangely enough, he enjoyed the maneuvering through the duplicity of the business world, playing his opposition for fools and leaving them scratching their heads over how he’d managed to twist them around his finger. Under their leadership, the company now did a lot of good; their solar power initiative was cutting down on Dubai’s carbon footprint, and he liked designing new resorts and conferring with his scientists on products. No, he wouldn’t be leaving Creed International.

But what about Maria? He had plenty of ideas for places to bring her; he’d promised to take her to the top of the Burj Khalifa, didn’t he? He’d also need to make sure they had dinner at Al Sarab; the rooftop terrace offered a stunning view of the desert at night. She said she loved _Arabian Nights_ , so perhaps she’d enjoy a trip to the gold and textile souks, or the Al Fahidi historical neighborhood. And that was just Dubai. The world was full of wonders that he was anxious to show her. Perhaps they’d take a long vacation. Heading east and making their way around the globe sounded like a good idea.

Altair allowed the barest hint of a smile to grace his lips. “I’ll come up with something. For now I need my focus to be on the task at hand, and for that, I need her safe.”

He nodded. “I’ll have eyes and ears on her at the party. Niccolo’s been conferring with Rauf about the security details. Given how quickly Claudia absconded with her, I doubt she’ll be leaving her side. Which means Yusuf and Niccolo will be remaining within spitting distance.” The trio began walking towards the living room.

“Where is Nic, by the way? And Leo?”

“Yes, I want to ask Leo how to get that damn ringtone off my phone,” Malik growled.

The Italian chuckled. “Leo has a date with a rather handsome young man, and Niccolo promised me he’d keep an eye on them and keep him out of trouble. I’m not letting my best friend get kidnapped again. They’ll be here tomorrow. The others should arrive this evening.”

Both Altair and Malik froze in their tracks. “The others?”

“I thought the party was tomorrow?”

“ _Si_ , my birthday party is tomorrow, but the celebration of Templar Industries’ downfall starts tonight.” He frowned at them. “You didn’t think we were going to let you do this alone, did you?”

“Ezio, I appreciate your help…” Altair started.

“No, Altair, don’t say another word. We know you plan to inform King, but the fact is, none of us are willing to leave things to chance. For all we know, de Sable’s caught onto you and is planning to send his Korean allies to sack the house. Like you said, he won’t risk loose ends. And now that Maria’s involved, I’m doubly concerned. So, they’re coming tonight to help protect you. We’re setting up perimeters, extra surveillance, and anything else we can think of to make this the safest house on the planet. Then, we’re going to celebrate the end of an eight-year war.”

Altair was speechless. Ezio’s reasoning was both insane and sound, and he could understand the others wanting to be there for backup.

He just wished he’d gotten some warning about the extra party at his house.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you planned your entire birthday around my bringing down de Sable.”

His smirk was very much like his own. “What could be a better present? Besides, you know I never miss an excuse to throw a good party.”

XXX

Meanwhile, Maria found herself by Altair’s stunning backyard pool, wrapped in a tiny teal bikini. Even if the man didn’t like swimming, she could understand why he kept it; waterfalls, fountains, and lush vegetation basically turned it into an elaborate oasis. There were stunning mosaics beneath the water, and with the heat of the country, the water created a cool, calming breeze that blew onto the patio.

Claudia languidly tread water in front of her, having dove in within seconds of arriving. “So, how long have you and Altair been together?”

Caught off guard, she replied, “Oh, we’re not together.”

“No? And yet he bothered to introduce you to us. He hasn’t done that in years.”

Maria rolled her eyes, sitting on the edge of the pool and dangling her feet in. “Of course he introduced us; you showed up at his house unannounced. I doubt he could have avoided it.”

“Oh, he’s hidden away his lovers before. Most of the time, I don’t meet his girlfriends until after the break-up. Ezio’s a flirt, and Altair doesn’t like to share his toys before he’s done with them.”

Maria frowned, recalling how Altair had called her Robert’s toy at dinner that first night. “I’m no man’s toy.”

“A woman after my own heart. Though, just so you know, letting a man treat you like his own personal fuck toy can be rather fun,” she said salaciously, enjoying how Maria’s face became utterly aghast.

It took her a few moments to recover. “I’m sure it is, but I’m not interested.”

“Don't knock it until you've tried it. From what I’ve heard, my cousin’s been known to get a little kinky. You might enjoy it.”

With how much time she’d been spending around Altair, Maria thought she could get used to hearing people talk so explicitly about sex. Clearly, not even he could prepare her for Claudia. “Dare I ask where you heard this?”

“Backstage at the last Victoria’s Secret show. He’d dated a couple of the models, and they were comparing notes.”

Despite her horror, Maria found herself vaguely curious. “Anything I should know?”

“You tell me. How many times have you two done it?”

Maybe it was because the Italian stunner worked in an industry that was all about sexuality, but she said it so casually that Maria felt a little ashamed of her answer. Biting her lip, she glanced away. “None.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Claudia tilt her head in confusion. “I think I need to work more on my English. What do you mean ‘none?’”

“We haven’t had sex. Not fully, at least. I…gave him a blowjob last night, and he’s…used his hands, but nothing else beyond some making out.” She really shouldn’t feel embarrassed. After all, Claudia owned a company that specialized in erotic toys when she wasn’t modeling sexy lingerie. The woman probably had heard of every conceivable act, fetish, and position. Yet Maria still found herself diving into the pool in hopes of hiding her mortification.

When she surfaced, Claudia was staring at her in shock. “You’re beautiful. You’re intelligent. You’ve got a posh accent and great legs. And he _hasn’t_ had sex with you?!”

“We’ve known each other four days!” she said defensively. She didn’t know why she felt so sensitive about it all of a sudden, but something about how the Italian model said it made it sound like they’d committed some sort of horrible crime.

 “I never thought I’d see the day. So, in less than a week, he’s allowed you to stay in his house, rescued you from a nightclub fight, introduced you to his family, and managed to not go beyond heavy petting?”

“Pretty much?”

Staring at her for a moment, Claudia shook her head in disbelief, a small smile coming to her lips. “I think he’s in love with you.”

Maria scoffed, kicking out her legs in hopes of splashing the clearly delirious model. “Love? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“If he’s going this slowly, it’s love.”

“He’s known me less than a week!”

“How long did it take before he propositioned you?”

She bit her lip. “Roughly thirty minutes.”

“See? To have known you four whole days and not sleep with you is unusual for my cousin. You’re special.”

Maria rolled her eyes, floating on her back. “Up until last night, we couldn’t have a conversation without arguing. We’re only now able to trust each other. We’ve not even dating. I highly doubt he’s in love.” If she were honest, she was surprised at how fast she’d moved with him. She wasn’t even opposed to sleeping with him now that her job wasn’t being dangled over her head. But that didn’t mean they were heading towards a relationship, did it?

He wasn’t a one-night stand; those were for people who met once, slept together, and then never saw each other again, probably forgetting each other’s names within a week. Altair had certainly gone beyond that, even though they hadn’t fucked. As the days went on, she found she rather enjoyed his company, having broken through to the thoughtful, fascinating man with a tragic past. So what were they? Friends with benefits? Lovers?

She stared up at the intense blue sky above her. If they did start dating, what then? She’d vowed never to give up her whole life for a man; if she got together with Altair, there was no way she could go back to London. She wasn’t sure she could manage a long-distance relationship.

Then what would she do? She couldn’t accept his offer for a job at his company; no matter how well-meaning it had been, it reeked of nepotism. Even if she was qualified, her office environment would be just like back at Templar Industries. No matter how much she worked her ass off, people would still believe she’d slept her way into the position. And this time, they wouldn’t be completely wrong. To say nothing of how critical she’d be on herself; every compliment, raise, and perk would likely fill her with doubt on whether she’d earned it in the office or on the mattress. It had been awkward enough with Robert after that one-night stand. Besides, what if Altair decided she wasn’t right for the position, or she screwed up and he was forced to fire her? Or if they broke up, could she still work for him? In one fell swoop, she could lose her job, her lover, and possibly even her home, if she moved in with him. What if a job came up that would require her to relocate somewhere else? Could she stand giving it up just to stay with him?

Beyond those logical doubts, what scared her the most was believing he’d fallen for her, only to find she was wrong. Altair wasn’t the lecherous jackass she’d first thought him to be, but the fact was he admitted to growing bored of women quickly. Would he tire of her? Could either of them really commit to a long-term relationship? Her career had taken up her entire life, leaving little time for socializing, meaning her dating record wasn’t stellar. She’d never even given a blowjob until last night. Did Altair want such an inexperienced partner?

Part of her told her she was being foolish; Altair cared for and respected her, and would never intentionally do anything to hurt her, physically or emotionally.

Then again, she’d thought that about Robert, and she’d known him for far longer. Could she take that risk?

Sensing her hesitation, Claudia dove under the water for a few minutes before surfacing and climbing out onto the edge, beckoning for Maria to join her. “If you say so. Perhaps I’m jumping the gun. It's just that Altair, while a jealous man, has never cared if I tried to drag off his girlfriends. I wouldn’t be surprised if he shows up at the pool just to keep you at his side.”

“Can we change the subject?” she asked as she climbed out. Claudia was nice, and perhaps she did know her cousin better than she, but Maria was not ready to have that sort of girlish heart-to-heart with a woman she’d known less than an hour. She’d expected her to ask about their sex lives, but love was not something she was ready to discuss just yet.

She shrugged. “Of course. I dragged you out here so I could get to know you, after all. Where are you from? What do you do?”

Maria bit her lip. What should have been an easy answer was now loaded with uncertainty. In the four days she’d been in Dubai, her once well-ordered life had completely fallen apart. Yet, she found she couldn’t be angry at Altair for it; after all, his machinations had probably saved her skin.

“I grew up in London. I…I was a secretary at Templar Industries, but I quit my job this morning.” She wondered if Claudia knew what the medical research company really was; she was Altair’s cousin, after all. Would she judge her for working for someone like Robert?

Claudia didn’t even blink. “So, you’re looking for a new job?”

“Yes. Altair said he’d introduce me to some people at the party.”

“Why wait? Come work for me. You’d be a fantastic model.”

Maria’s jaw dropped. That was not an offer she’d been expecting. “I’m not sure I’d be comfortable modeling your…products.” She’d only seen a few of the marital aids offered by Rosa Amore, but she was certain that anything Claudia asked of her would be far from innocent. 

“Ah, you’re definitely English. Always so shy. It’s people like you that would benefit from my products the most, but are too afraid to buy.”

“Well, it is rather awkward. Those sort of shops just seem so shady, and aside from a few girls in college, I never really had anyone to talk to about such…items, and even that was only after a few glasses of wine.”

“Marital aids have such a stigma. People believe only the very loose or desperately lonely buy them. I think a smart, professional woman like you would be perfect for helping me erase that. I can promise the pay’s good, and you get the bonus of a lifetime supply of any product you model,” she said with a wink.

“I don’t think so.”

“What about product tester? I’m sure Altair would be more than eager to help you out.”

Maria was sure he would, and that brought an intense blush from the tips of her ears down to her chest. Claudia had said his past lovers called him kinky, and that brought to mind some rather interesting bedroom scenarios. He seemed to like making her beg for him; would he tie her to the bed and spank her? Tease her with a vibrator until she couldn’t take anymore? Anxiously she rubbed her thighs together.

Claudia noticed the action and grinned like the Cheshire Cat. Oh, she could definitely see why Altair liked this one. None of the other girls were half as fun to tease. “Just so you know, I've heard he likes it when a girl gets a little disobedient. Is there an outfit of yours he hates?”

Teeth sinking into her plump lower lip, Maria thought back to that first night. “Yes, actually. The suit I wore when we first met. He threatened to have the servants turn it into cleaning rags if I dared to wear it in his presence again.”

“Do it. If what I heard is right, he’ll rip it off you and make you beg for mercy in the best way.”

She stared at her, slightly concerned. “Why are you so invested in your cousin’s sex life, exactly?”

Claudia gave a sad smile. “I just want him to be happy. He’s been through a lot, and we couldn’t be there for him when he needed us. If we’d known how Al Mualim had been treating him, I’m sure Mama would have demanded custody of him. We were led to believe that Altair wanted nothing to do with our family.” She kicked out at the water, eyes focused on the shimmering droplets, deep in thought. “When he finally reached out to us, he wasn’t the same boy who played house with me. He’d changed, and not for the better. He’s been hurt and had his heart broken, so he doesn’t trust easily.”

“Well, scars like that take time to heal,” Maria replied awkwardly.

“They do, and we help where we can. He’s improved immensely in the past eight years, but he still wears his masks so often. Sometimes I wonder if I’m even talking to the real Altair when we’re at a party; in private he lets his guard down, but in public, he pretends to be whichever version people expect. I want him to find someone he can let down his guard around.”

“He is hard to get a bead on,” the Englishwoman agreed. “Up until yesterday, I couldn’t tell if he genuinely respected me, or if it was all an act to get into my pants. Then I found myself in a difficult position, and instead of taking advantage of the situation, he promised to help me. Malik told me that Al Mualim made it difficult for them to form normal relationships, and I belive it, but I also think your cousin’s on the right path. It just takes time.”

Claudia sighed. “I know. I just worry, and I’m not always good at being patient. I’m used to getting what I want.”

“I’ve noticed,” she teased, mood lightening at the Italian’s grin.

“Speaking of getting what I want, don’t think I’m giving up on you! If you’re not comfortable with erotic toys, I also own a publishing company that specializes in romance novels. I think you’d look spectacular on the cover of one of those.” She grinned cheekily. “Just imagine, you entwined with some half-dressed hunk, urging women to indulge in a wild fantasy.”

Maria laughed harder, happy that her companion was back to her old self. “I’m better at administrative work,” she insisted.

“And how long have you been doing that?”

“About five years.”

“Then this is an opportunity to try something new!”

“You know, so far I’ve gotten job offers from both you and Altair, despite neither of you so much as glancing at my resume. Is this this a family trait, or do I just look that hire-able?”

“It’s the way you carry yourself. Only a woman with a strong work ethic and sharp mind holds her head as high as yours when dealing with men like Altair and Malik. Despite their status, you look them dead in the eye and aren’t afraid to tell them off.”

She felt oddly flattered at her assessment. “And you know this how?”

“I may have grilled Rauf for details about you. Did you seriously slap my cousin?”

“Yes. He insulted me, and I wasn’t going to stand for it.”

“Oh, I do like you. Mark my words, Maria, you will be working for me before the end of the night tomorrow.”

“Do I get a say in this?”

“Not in the slightest!”

“Speaking of, what were you hoping Malik would model?” she asked curiously.

Claudia’s eyes lit up with mischief, and her smirk was so much like Altair’s the night before, it left her with no doubt they were related. “I’m not sure an innocent English rose like you could handle it.”

Maria chuckled. “Oh, I don’t know. Remember, I’ve been spending a lot of time with Altair. I don’t think ‘innocent’ is a great descriptor for me anymore.” Despite her blush, she had to grin. Claudia’s openness about sex, though jarring at first, was becoming oddly comforting, if a little embarrassing. Sure, there had been some rather naughty conversations at the bachelorette party she’d attended four years ago, but other than that she hadn’t really had anyone to talk to about such things. She could appreciate the model’s open mind, and she doubted she’d judge her for anything she and Altair might have done.

“Sweetheart, the things I’d have him do would make your ears red.”

“Well now I really want to know!”

“I thought you were seeing my cousin?” she teased.

“I told you, we’re not together. And even if we were, there’s nothing wrong with checking out the goods, right?” she laughed. “If you make Malik my co-star, maybe I’ll take you up on that cover-girl offer. The look on Altair’s face would be priceless!”

“Don’t let him hear you say that. He’ll either kill Malik, or invite him for a threesome.”

The blush returned to her face with a vengeance, and Claudia looked at her in surprise. “Don’t tell me he actually did!”

“He was joking.”

“Are you sure? Because that blush tells me you wouldn’t mind. You’re right, you’re not as innocent as you seem! I can’t say I blame you, though; any girl would kill to be between a couple of Arabian stallions like them.”

“Um, isn’t Altair your cousin?”

“Yeah, but he’s my first cousin.”

“So?”

“So, you have your cousins, and then you have your first cousins, and then you have your second cousins…”

Maria stared at her in horror until something clicked in her brain and she burst out laughing. “Oh, thank God you’re quoting _Mean Girls_. You had me worried for a moment.”

“ _Mean Girls_ is surprisingly applicable to many situations.”

“Quite true. I wouldn’t be surprised if the office had its own Burn Book. With a whole chapter dedicated to me.”

“I take it you didn’t have many friends at Templar Industries?”

Maria kicked at the water. “When I first started, I was too focused on my job to really socialize. Then I got drunk and slept with my boss, and I’ve been treated like a leaper ever since.”

“Have you slept with anyone since?”

“At work? Hell no. I’ve barely dated since then.”

“Then they’re either utter bitches, or someone’s been feeding the fire. You’ve got a Regina George on your hands.”

“Had. I told him I quit this morning.”

“Nice. Too bad you couldn’t ruin his life.”

“Altair, Malik, and I are working on that.”

Claudia’s smile would have made a vengeful demon proud. “Excellent. I hate it when people leave such things be, especially those who claim karma will eventually get the best of them. Make your own karma is what I say!”

“Spoken like a true Auditore,” came a voice from behind them.

The women turned to see Ezio, Malik, and Altair approaching.

“Come to join us for a swim?” Maria asked, smiling.

Malik shook his head. “There’s too much to plan and prepare to waste time lounging by the pool.”

“Ah. Of course,” she said, standing up and grabbing her towel. A wave of guilt hit her. Talking to Claudia was nice, but Malik was right; they only had until tomorrow to compile all the evidence they had to give to King. The three of them had gotten a lot of it done last night, but she was sure Malik wouldn’t be satisfied until their case was airtight. She certainly wouldn’t be. There was no time for pointless dilly-dallying.

“ _Cara_ , what happened to your arm?” Ezio asked, genuinely concerned.

Maria glanced at her arm and winced. Malik’s bruise was already visible, even though the match had been only a few hours ago. It almost looked like a large thumbprint, and while it wasn’t too dark yet, she knew from experience that it would be a deep purple by the party tomorrow. That was not going to be fun to cover up for the party. “I took a good hit during fencing practice this morning. It’s nothing to be concerned about. Anyway, sorry for holding us up. Let me get changed, and I’ll meet you both in the office.”

Altair glared at Malik, who looked apologetic, to say the least. “Malik meant we have a lot to do for the party,” he said, taking the towel and giving her a reassuring smile. “Ezio wants to decorate the whole damn house, and we need to supervise to make sure he doesn’t break anything I’m particularly attached to. Plus, apparently there’s a pre-party that he neglected to inform me of, so I’ll be busy all day. You should relax.”

She bit her lip nervously. “Are you sure?” It felt like her whole damn week had been a tennis match between unexpected relaxation and horrible revelations. If anything, going over those files had been a sort of relief, as it at least felt like she was making herself useful.

Giving a reassuring smile Malik chimed in, “There’s nothing more we can do with those files until tonight. Our contact will send us a report this evening, and then we’ll see if there’s anything else worth adding.”

“I don’t like sitting around doing nothing when there’s work to be done.”

Malik leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, “You are working. You’re keeping Claudia off my back.”

She finally grinned at him. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of her?”

“Has she asked you to model for her?”

“Yes.”

“Then welcome to my Hell. She’s never going to give up.”

“If you’d just indulge me I’d leave you alone,” Claudia chimed in, devilish smirk on her angelic face.

Malik glared. “Bullshit. I give in once, and I’ve regretted it forever. ‘Oh, just one more cover, Malik! You’ve done it before, why not now? Oh, Malik, _please_ just model this toy! I promise to _never_ ask again!’” he mocked.

She laughed gleefully, “But it’s true! Why not one more cover? You were absolutely perfect, and that volume sold like hotcakes!”

“Wait, you actually did that?” Maria asked, baffled and gleeful. She liked Malik, but oh, it was sweet seeing him knocked off his high horse for once.

The pink blush wasn’t particularly obvious with his dark complexion, but in the sunlight, they could all see it clearly. “Once. Years ago. Her original model quit suddenly while I was visiting, so I agreed to step in as a favor.”

“Which book was it?” she asked eagerly. This was utter gold. It was so out of character for him, she simply had to see it for herself.

Altair tactfully changed the subject, pointing over to the table where several servants were setting out silverware and food. “Let’s have some lunch. We’ll eat out here so you two won’t be tracking water through the house.” He wasn’t turning the conversation away from Malik’s rather hilarious stint as a one-time Fabio because he was irrationally jealous at how interested Maria seemed at seeing him half-naked. No, he was doing it to save his brother further embarrassment.

Claudia threw on her silk robe before slinging her arm over Maria’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll send you a copy. It’s a good book, actually; beautiful Arabian setting, a handsome sheik, an innocent Englishwoman he decides to make his wife, steamy sex scenes, really everything you could ask for.”

“I’ll take it, and any other books like it. I could use a hot Arabian fantasy.”

“What am I?” Altair asked, offended.

She shrugged, mirth twinkling in her eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re hot and Arabian, but I have to say, you’re lacking in the ‘fantasy’ aspect. Maybe you could learn a thing or two from those books,” she teased, turning towards the set table.

“Oh, I can tell we’re going to be good friends, Maria,” said Claudia. “I can’t wait until you meet Aveline and Evie; they are going to love you. I’ve gotten them into erotic fiction, too. They should be here tonight. Stick with me, and I’ll show you a whole new world.”

Maria laughed, glancing back at the men; Altair was clearly pouting, Malik was trying to avoid eye contact, and Ezio looked like he was barely holding in his laughter.

She had the feeling things were going to get a lot more interesting around the mansion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So congrats to everyone who guessed Claudia and Ezio were coming! And now Altair needs to worry about Maria meeting the people he reluctantly calls friends. Oh, the many opportunities for embarrassment and jealous over-reactions this allows for...  
> BTW, that bruise Maria got is based off an actually fencing injury I've gotten. My opponent got me good in the arm, and I had a bruise for almost two weeks. Which led to some amusing conversations with people who were asking if my boyfriend was abusing me. Which is only amusing because a) the looks on people's faces when the 5'2" blonde girl says she fences are priceless, and b) my opponent was a 13-year old girl who we actively have to tell to hit harder because she holds back too much. My coach says bruises like that are a fairly common problem for female fencers, so Maria's more than used to it.


	11. Dressed to Kill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, this chapter starts off NSFW, so if you're in a public place and blush easily, you might want to wait a bit. Let's just say there's a reason this fic is going up to "E". But it's a long chapter, so I hope that makes up for how long it took me to write it.

After lunch, Altair had spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening making last-minute calls to his allies and chasing after Ezio, keeping him in check regarding where guests would be allowed and what he was permitted to decorate. The Italian never half-assed a party, and it was up to him and Malik to make sure their home would still be standing after the weekend was over. By the time they’d convinced Ezio to keep the festivities to the first floor of the house, mainly focusing on the grand ballroom, main entrance, and backyard, the sun had set, and Altair knew their other guests would be arriving soon.

Excusing himself, he dashed upstairs, determined to steal at least a few moments with his lovely Englishwoman. Claudia had kept her occupied all day, and while he was happy they were getting along, he was craving some time alone with Maria. Honestly, he’d be happy just sitting beside her with a book. Perhaps he could fit in a quick tour of the library before they had to entertain the others. Seeing her smile at the treasure trove he had there would certainly ease the stress of minding Ezio all day. Waiting less than a heartbeat after knocking, Altair entered Maria’s room, much to her surprise.

“Good God, have you ever waited for someone to actually give you permission to enter?” she yelped, clutching her blouse to her chest. She was clad in just her nude bra and grey skirt, hair undone, and blazer still on the bed.

Ordinarily seeing her half-naked would cause him no end of delight, but he found himself frowning in annoyance as he recognized her outfit. It was the grey suit he’d first met her in, the one that, while conservative and professional, was far too baggy and unflattering for her lean, athletic figure. “Don’t tell me you’re wearing that to meet my guests,” he said irritably, leaning against the doorframe, nose wrinkled in distaste. Ezio had informed her of the impromptu gathering, and how they were the ones that had been helping bring down de Sable, though at Altair’s pointed look had not gone into detail. Considering how several of them had committed less-than-legal acts, he felt it was better to let her wade into the ocean of madness she’d find herself in rather than throw her in headfirst.

“Of course I’m wearing this; I want to make a good impression. If they’re anything like you and Malik, I want them to see me as an equal, not some floozy,” she shot back. “And that still doesn’t answer my question!”

He shrugged, glaring daggers at the offending suit. “This was originally my room. Why would I need permission to enter?”

“Because it’s not your room now, and I’m trying to get dressed.”

Golden eyes narrowed to slits. “You’re not wearing that.”

Frowning, she glanced down at it. Sure, it wasn’t the nicest suit, being dull grey and perhaps a size too big in the jacket, but she really didn’t understand why he was so vehemently opposed to it. “Altair, these are important people, and I will meet them dressed professionally.” A subtle smirk touched her lips. Claudia’s advice on driving him crazy rang in her mind, and she wondered just how far she could push him. “After the way Ezio was eyeing me up in that bikini, I would have thought you’d appreciate me dressing a little more conservatively.”

“I’d appreciate you dressed in something flattering.”

Strutting up to him, shirt unbuttoned and hips swaying, she delicately ran her fingers over the exposed skin of his collar. “You seemed to like the way my legs looked in it when we met.”

A sharp breath made his chest rise beneath her fingers. “You have better clothes that still look plenty professional. Change into those.”

Leaning forward, she brushed her lips over the corner of his mouth, right next to his scar. “Why should I?”

“Because I told you never to wear it again. Are you disobeying my wishes?”

“Oh, Altair,” she whispered before giving him a hard shove out into the hall. “You’re not the boss of me!”

Startled, it took Altair a moment to collect himself, giving the Englishwoman time to slam the door in his face, her wicked smirk lingering in his mind’s eye. He tried the doorknob, only to find it locked tight. Pounding on the heavy oak, he yelled, “Maria, open this door!”

“Sorry, Altair, but you’ll simply have to accept that you’re not my master,” Maria called out, a touch of laughter in her voice. “Maybe if you behave I’ll let you take it off me later.”

Fist paused in mid-air, Altair smirked, a sharp, lustful glint in his eyes. So, that’s how she wanted to play, was it? She hoped to torture him throughout the night, mocking him with that unflattering suit, working him into a frenzy until he was finally able to drag her back to the room and show her who was boss. In most circumstances, he’d be more than happy to play along, but he’d had to share her all day. And since seeing her in that teal bikini, water dripping between her breasts and skin milky-white in the sun, he’d been fantasizing about getting her alone. The library could wait. He was craving her, and he was going to teach her a lesson in following the rules; they were meant to be broken, but she’d best be ready to suffer his unique brand of punishment.

Backing away from the door, he dashed down to his own chambers, running through the door and darting to the large French doors that led to the balcony. Smirking, he leapt off the rails to grab onto the narrow ledge protruding from the wall. Crawling along the wall like he was born to do so, he quickly came to Maria’s window. Checking the latch, he smirked. Of course she wouldn’t think to lock her window; that was a mistake she’d pay for. Climbing inside, he licked his lips at the sight before him; Maria was bent over, putting on those dull leather pumps, pert ass hugged by the snug grey fabric of her shirt. Really, it was the only thing he liked about the outfit. Sensing his presence, she whirled around, and he was mildly disappointed that she’d buttoned up her shirt.

_Just gives me an excuse to rip it off,_  he thought, cheering up immediately.

“You came in through the bloody window?” she cried. “You could have broken your neck!”

Not even bothering to reply, he rushed forward, knocking her down and pinning her to the bed, her too-large blazer partially trapped beneath them. “You locked the door. What else was I supposed to do?”

“Not climb in through my window like some sort of thief in the night?” she snipped, wriggling in his grip. His hold on her wrists was firm but far from painful, muscular body pressed snugly against her own, and she knew that if she seriously told him to stop, he’d do so. But she was curious what he’d do; Claudia’s inference to him being a bit kinky had teased her mind all day, and while she had planned on dragging it out a bit longer, she decided she wasn’t going to look the gift horse in the mouth. She needed a new suit, anyway.

“You broke one of my rules. I think I’ll have to punish you.” Before she could blink, he’d grabbed the neck of her blouse and easily ripped it down the middle, buttons flying across the room.

She gasped, giving mock-glare. “Punish me for choosing my own clothes? And here I thought we’d gotten past such boorish displays of machismo.”

“Oh, I think you’ll like this punishment.” Yanking her up, he quickly pulled the ripped garment off her shoulders and down her arms before knotting it around her hands, pinning them behind her back. He smirked. “That’s better, though the bra has to go, too.” Much to his pleasure, the clasp was in the front, allowing him to free her breasts with ease. He took a moment to admire the newly-discovered flesh; pale and perfect, the mounds were just the right size for his hands. The nipples were a dusty rose color, and he noticed a couple of freckles that had been covered up by the bikini. His mouth watered, and he felt himself grow undeniably hard. “There we go. I’ll have to remember this position for the future; it really makes your tits pop.”

Maria tried to pull her hands from the knotted sleeves but found herself utterly trapped. “You are such an ass— _ah_!” she cried out as he leaned down and immediately began sucking on one of the delicate buds. His mouth laved the sensitive flesh, hot tongue teasing them until they were hard as pebbles, and she could feel heat and moisture between her thighs. She gasped when he gave the underside of one breast a sharp nip, throwing back her head as he lightly worried her nipple with his teeth.

Free to explore her body to his heart’s content, he shoved her back onto the bed, following her down so as to not lose a second of contact with her luscious skin. His hands refused to stay idle, one massaging her neglected breast while the other tauntingly stroked its way down her stomach and hip before finally landing on her firm thigh. Giving it a teasing squeeze, he yanked it to the side to wedge his knee between them, pushing up her skirt so it bunched up around her hips, exposing her delicate pink panties.

Reluctantly pulling his mouth away from her delectable breasts, he smirked at her. “Now, what should I do with you? The punishment should fit the crime, after all.” He seemed to think it over, tongue swirling over the taut peak. “Much as I’d love to get my hands on that sweet ass of yours, spanking is such a cliché.” Moving lower, he peppered her taut stomach with kisses. “Maybe I should parade you downstairs like this. Let them see you in your precious suit, but with your tits hanging out and your skirt bunched around your hips. Make sure there’s no question that you’re mine.”

Maria gave a slight mewl as he dipped his tongue into her belly button. “I’m not yours,” she said, but it sounded weak even to her own ears.

“Oh? Is that why you broke the rules? To show you’re a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need a man?” he chuckled, mouth dipping lower to teasingly trace above the top of her skirt. “Right now, you’re my pretty plaything, tied up and at my mercy.”

Whimpering, she recalled how Claudia said it was fun to be a man’s personal fuck-toy.  _I guess I’ll be finding out if she’s right, won’t I?_  Maria thought, head growing dizzy with pleasure as he started kissing her thighs.

Tongue running along the inside of one firm thigh, Altair continued, “No, I think I know exactly what I want to do to you. I’ve been eager to do this since I tasted you in the alley.” Smirking, he sat up and stripped off her panties, letting his fingers caress her long legs as he did so. Tossing the garment over his shoulder, he ran a single long finger along her wet slit, drinking in her gasp of pleasure.

“Altair!”

“That’s it; say my name. I’m going to show you who’s boss right here and now.”

With that, he knelt on the floor, pulling her so her ass was nearly hanging off the edge of the bed. Hooking one of her legs over his shoulder, his mouth hovered over her netherlips, hot breath teasing. Slowly, he dipped down, tongue gently brushing her clit with the lightest of touches. Her hips bucked slightly, and with a grin he ran his tongue along her slit, moaning at the taste of her. Getting even more into it, he licked harder, keeping his tongue firm but his pace languid, as if he were eating an ice cream cone instead of a writhing woman.

Moaning helplessly, Maria tried hard not to buck against him, hoping to hold onto at least a little of her composure. But it was next to impossible when the man between her thighs was teasing her with every stroke of his tongue, golden eyes watching her strained expression as she bit her lip and wished her hands were free so she could bury her fingers in his hair and pull him closer to where she needed him most. She’d never had a man give her oral before; the few guys she’d been with had seemed put-off by the idea. But here was Altair, eagerly devouring her like she was a feast laid out for a starving man.

He gave a low hum of contentment, loving the way she writhed beneath him. “You taste so fucking good,” he growled. Intent on having her make new sounds, Altair pressed two fingers inside her tight cunt while giving her clit a particularly sharp suck. Maria cried out in shocked pleasure, bucking her hips, but he grabbed her leg, pressing her down onto the bed and removing his fingers.

Detaching his lips from her core, he met her eyes. “Did you like that?”

“Y-yes,” she whimpered, sounding beautifully debauched and broken.

“Do you want me to do that again?”

“Please!”

“Please what?” he said, turning to nibble on her thigh. “I won’t know what you want me to do unless you tell me.”

Biting her lip, she screwed her eyes shut, utterly turned on by his husky voice and filthy words. Honestly, she knew what she wanted to tell him to do, but she wanted to draw it out, hear him describe it himself in that deliciously accented voice. He’d been right back in the club; she loved it when he talked dirty to her.

With a chuckle, he granted his silent wish. “Do you want me to touch you?”

“Yes.”

“Where?” he asked, lightly stroking her soaking lips.

“ _Ah!_  Pl—please touch my cunt!”

Instantly he did so, fingers curling inside her, though his mouth remained on her thigh, sucking hard until there was a bright red hickey just beneath her panty line, his little mark of ownership. Admiring his work for only a moment, he returned his lips to her clit, giving another low hum. The reaction was instantaneous, vibrations sending electric shocks through her and causing her to buck wildly with indescribable pleasure.

Moving away again, he lightly blew on her sensitive pearl, laughing quietly at her mewling cry. He was so unbelievably turned on right now. Unzipping his trousers, he pulled out his length and lightly stroked it, teasing himself. “Do you want more?”

“Yes!”

“Do you want me to eat out your pretty little cunt?

“Please, please,  _please!_ ”

“Then say it.”

Panting, she choked out, “Please, Altair, eat me out.”

It was all the invitation he needed, shoving his fingers as deep inside her as he could go and latching onto her swollen pearl, stroking, sucking, and humming as she jerked and cried out helplessly beneath him, whispering his name like a prayer when he curled his fingers against a particularly delicious spot. Within minutes she was cumming around him, and he happily lapped up her juices.

When her orgasm finally calmed, she watched Altair rise up, mouth and chin sticky with the evidence of her desire. Smirking, he said, “Now look at what a mess you’ve made, you dirty girl,” and proceeded to wipe his face with the skirt still around her waist.

“What are you—?”

Satisfied that he was clean, he crawled up onto the bed and kissed her deeply, letting her taste her own musk. She groaned as his sticky tongue stroked hers, willingly returning the kiss, nibbling his lip teasingly. Drawing back for air, he straddled one of her thighs, resting his weight on it so she had no choice but to remain in place. Once again he fisted his cock, allowing the juices still on his long fingers to lubricate him slightly. His other hand lightly stroked her oversensitive clit, licking his lips at the sound of her moan.

“Altair, I don’t think I can handle another one,” she gasped, chest heaving enticingly.

“You’ll handle as many as I want you to.” Though tempted to once again pay tribute to her breasts, he remained upright. In a commanding voice that brokered no argument, he said, “Look at me, Maria. I want you to watch me.”

When she obeyed, white-hot pleasure shot through him. Groaning, he pumped his cock in time with the tight circles he rubbed over her pearl, resting more of his weight on her when she started to jerk beneath him. “You have such a pretty face. I love watching it when filthy thoughts go through your head. It makes me want to flip you over and fuck you like an animal, make you scream my name so the whole house can hear.”

“That sounds— _ah_ —rather tame,” she taunted, arching her back as he rubbed her clit a bit more firmly.

He was pleased that despite her obvious pleasure, her eyes never left him. In fact, they seemed fixated on his cock, which was practically throbbing in his fist. Pumping harder, he growled sexily, “You really are a naughty little thing, aren’t you? There are so many things I want to do to you. I could tie you to my headboard with your naked ass in the air, vibrator in your cunt, spanking you and making you thank me for it.” She moaned and he bit his lip, hands increasing their speed as he got even closer to his own release. By Allah, that image was hot. He’d have to remember that for later. “Or, if that suit means so much to you, I have a special vibrator we can play with; one that I can control the frequency of remotely. You’ll wear it under your precious suit at the party, and I’ll get to watch your pretty face as you try not to cum in front of my friends.”

Her face went vermillion at the thought, and she frantically shook her head. Hot as the thought was, there was no way she was risking humiliating herself in front of strangers, or even Claudia and Malik. She’d never be able to look any of them in the eye.

“No? Then we’ll use it in my office.” His voice was strained, hands working faster as he approached his inevitable release. “I’d love to see you try to do paperwork while constantly on the edge of orgasm. When it finally gets too much, you’ll beg me to let you cum, so I’ll bend you over the desk and watch as the toy does its job over and over again. Once you’ve been reduced to a screaming mess, I’ll take it out and fuck you myself. Just imagine how my hard, thick cock will feel in that tight, oversensitive cunt of yours. I know I am.”

She screamed his name as she released over his hand again, and with a groan he came as well, practically collapsing on top of her as exhaustion from such a mind-blowing orgasm. Panting in her ear, he had to take a few moments to collect himself. He’d never cum that hard from jerking himself off, not even while pleasuring someone else. Something about Maria just made every sensation so much better, and he knew that when he finally fucked her properly, it would be nothing short of amazing. But as tempting as it was to find out at that very moment, he knew they had to get cleaned up before the other arrived; Ezio was good a picking locks, and he didn’t need his cousin, Malik, or any of the other guests interrupting what he was certain would be the best sex of his life. He wanted to take his time with Maria, and he’d literally kill anyone who’d dare interrupt him.

When she caught her breath, Maria glanced over at where he’d cum, shocked to find his white, sticky semen had landed all over her forgotten blazer. She glared at him, but he could only grin smugly.

“Oops,” he murmured, trailing his tongue along her cheek, tasting her sweat. “Guess you’ll have to find something else to wear.”

“You are such a bastard,” she said as he got off, helping her upright so he could undo his knots.

Grinning fiercely, he sucked another hickey onto her neck, making sure it was so red she wouldn’t be able to cover it with makeup. His friends could be flirty, and he wanted everyone to know she was taken. “Maybe, but I think you love it. Otherwise you would have told me to stop.”

She chuckled breathily, unable to argue with that. Stopping had never even crossed her mind.

XXX

Altair’s guests had arrived while they were busy finding a new outfit, the group of high-ranking executives and socialites greeting each other in the elaborate parlor.

It was a lightly-tanned, well-built blonde that noticed them first. “Alty! Good to see ya again, lad!” he called in an unmistakably Welsh accent. Maria was shocked to recognize Edward Kenway, CEO of Jackdaw Shipping. The man was something of a legend in the business world, having come from basically nothing, but through cleverness and sheer grit had built a shipping empire that dominated the globe. And for a man in his sixties, he certainly didn’t look it. He had a blonde goatee and a wide grin, blue eyes twinkling with mirth and cleverness. There was some grey at his temples and laugh-lines around his mouth and forehead, but the man didn’t look a day past fifty. He certainly didn’t have the body for a man his age, being well-known for spending his days boating, swimming, and traipsing through the jungle. He wore a tight black t-shirt with a skull and crossbones emblazed across the front, muscular arms sporting tattoos that were only slightly faded from all the time he spent in the Caribbean sun.

Out of the corner of her eye, Maria saw Altair wince. “For the last time, Edward, don’t call me ‘Alty,’” he grumbled, though there wasn’t much heat in it. Whether it was from grudging respect for the man or just tranquility from his earlier orgasm, even he wasn’t sure.

Edward laughed and clapped him on the back. “Good to see our favorite billionaire hasn’t lost his sunny disposition.” He turned to Maria, giving her an appreciative once-over before offering his hand. “The name’s Edward. You must be the famous Maria.”

She accepted his hand, shaking it firmly. “Pleasure, though I’m hardly famous.”

“With the way Ezio and Claudia have been going on about you, you’re well on your way,” he quipped. “Let me give you fair warning, since the press’ll be following you around like vultures if you stick with this one; carry around a spare pair of knickers. Last thing you need is to accidentally get caught red-handed after one of Alty’s impromptu rendezvous.”

“Shut up, Kenway,” the man in question growled while Maria tried hard not to give any indication that he wasn’t wrong.

He shrugged. “What? It’s valuable advice. I told Avvy the same thing after she got together with Connor. Though, it did give her an alibi when the authorities found Rafael’s body.”

Before Maria could ask for clarification, a soft but deep voice broke into the conversation. “Grandfather, are you annoying our host?”

The trio turned to see a young man even broader than Edward, with long black hair and skin even darker than Malik’s. Wide lips were turned down in a frown, brow furrowed with concern, and his dark eyes were taking in the scene critically. He was dressed casually, in a white t-shirt and brown jeans, though Maria noted he also wore a necklace with what appeared to be animal claws or teeth, and there was even an eagle feather in his hair. Maria was vaguely familiar with his work; an animal and First Nations activist, he also traveled the globe offering aid to those whose lives had been affected by war.

“I’m doing no such thing, Connor!” Edward replied, grabbing the young man by the shoulder and dragging him in for a hug. “Miss Maria, this is my grandson, Connor Kenway. I know, I look far too young to have a grandkid, but I promise, it’s the truth! Practically raised the boy myself after his mother passed, yet he still acts like I’m the one who needs mindin’.”

“He’s not wrong,” Altair snipped, and Maria coughed lightly to hide a smile.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said, shaking Connor’s hand.

“Likewise,” he murmured, looking a little embarrassed.

Claudia’s voice broke in, “Is that all you have to say, Connor? You could at least compliment how nice she looks.”

The Italian model strolled over, arm-in-arm with a stunning woman Maria recognized as the actress Aveline de Grandpre. Known for both theatre and film, she was quite the performer. Just last year she’d been nominated for an Oscar for her performance as a high-class woman who disguised herself as a slave to find her missing mother. “Be nice to him, Claudia. You know he’s shy,” she said, New Orleans accent dripping from her lips like honey.

“Avvy, be a gem and help me convince the grizzly over here that it’s okay to show an emotion once in a while,” Edward said. “You can’t tell me he’s this stoic in bed.”

Connor blushed, pulling away from his grandfather and standing awkwardly to the side.

With a chuckle, Aveline sauntered over and brushed her dark red lips over Connor’s cheek. “Ignore him,  _mon nounours_. You know he’s only teasing.”

Maria didn’t miss how Connor seemed to relax slightly in the bayou beauty’s presence, lips even twitching into the faintest smile before returning to his original impassive expression.

“Teasing is fine, but I’d rather he make a good impression on Altair’s guest.”

“I’m making a fine impression! I’m showing we’re not all a bunch of hard-asses like her boyfriend.”

“If she’s scared off by the likes of Edward, she won’t last very long in this world,” Aveline said before turning to the woman in question. “Lovely to meet you. Claudia’s been going on about you since I walked in the door.”

“Surely there are more interesting topics to talk about?” Maria replied.

“Not really. Every other relevant topic has already been covered to death; you’re shiny and new.”

 Hoping to hide the awkwardness she felt at being the center of attention, she said, “Well, you’re all quite new to me, though I’m familiar with your work, at least. I hear you’ll be in the latest production of Hamilton?”

“ _Oui_ , as Angelica, though I’m sure Connor’s sick to death already of listening to the songs,” she giggled, nudging the large half-Mohawk.

He shrugged. “The music’s good, but like most things that have to do with the Revolution, they gloss over the plight of the Native Americans during the war. I understand it wasn’t their intention, but it does get frustrating.”

Aveline smiled at Maria. “Connor’s done a lot of work fighting for Native rights. He was at Standing Rock and nearly got arrested. Don’t get him going, or you’ll be here all night.”

Maria nodded. “Thank you for the warning, but I agree with him. For a country that prides itself on freedom and fighting oppression, the United States certainly seem to enjoy ignoring the people they had to step on to get there. And the fact that the government still seems fixated on taking native land only adds insult to injury.”

Connor stared at her, eyebrows raised, but otherwise unreadable. After a long, silent moment he turned to Altair and simply said, “Marry her,” before joining Ezio at the bar to fix himself a drink.

Edward burst out laughing. “The legendary approval of Connor! I never thought I’d see the day. You picked a good one, Altair! Then again, I’m of the firm belief that the best women are all Marys,” he laughed, winking at Maria.

She got the feeling Edward was not one for tact. She’d heard from Robert that the shipping tycoon had never truly bothered with learning social niceties. Her former boss got along much better with his son, Haytham Kenway, who was his polar opposite, personality-wise. She’d met Haytham once during a visit to New York, and he’d been formal and polite, every word carefully chosen like he was giving a speech. Edward was boisterous and blurted out whatever came to mind with nary a care of who might be embarrassed. Connor, however, seemed even more different, like he only spoke if he were comfortable or had something valuable to say. If they didn’t share the same last name, she wouldn’t have guessed the three were related.

Chancing a glance at Altair, she found herself blushing at the gentle, fond smile on his lips. Connor’s proclamation, mixed with Claudia’s earlier insistence that Altair was in love, was making her insides twist in ways she wasn’t sure were happy or scared.

Her nerves settled slightly when he said, “Marriage is a long way off, Edward. I’d like to enjoy dating her for a while first.”

“Fair enough, but you’d best not let her out of your sight; another man might just try to steal her away.”

“They do so at their own peril,” he quipped, but there was a hint of darkness in his voice.

“I’m quite certain you don’t have any claim over me yet, Altair,” Maria snipped, head held high.

He grinned at her wolfishly. “I think the sounds you made upstairs indicate otherwise.” Gently, he rubbed a finger along her ribs in tight circles, mimicking the way he’d teased her clit earlier. Swallowing, she did her best to hide her embarrassment with a scoff.

Claudia gave her a look that screamed pride and amusement, making Maria blush. Aveline rolled her eyes, taking Englishwoman’s hand and leading her towards the bar. “Come. If you’re going to deal with this lot all night, you’re in desperate need of hard liquor.”

Claudia giggled, “Speaking from experience?”

Aveline shook her head, accepting a gin and tonic from Connor. “When Connor and I started dating, we were similarly teased. Booze was a necessity when Ezio got going. Though I only got drunk when I had to deal with Haytham.”

Frowning, Maria glanced at the couple. “He doesn’t approve?”

“His father’s an ass,” Ezio replied, watching as Connor put far too much focus on putting together a cocktail. “He’s the campaign manager for Charles Lee, a hardcore Conservative running for Senate.”

Connor sighed. “Father divorced my mother when I was very young. When I was nine, she died, so he took me in, but since he was too busy with his job, he basically passed me off to Edward. Somehow, he still thinks he has the right to control my life. Our paths crossed at a charity dinner, so I introduced him to Aveline. It didn’t go well.”

“He thinks his son can do better, that he should give up his ideologies and run for office,” Aveline growled. “An actress does not make a good wife for a politician, apparently.”

Handing Claudia the cocktail, he started making another. “He feels that anything I do might reflect badly on him, so he keeps in touch enough to tell me how I should live my life. Apparently, Edward is enough of a disgrace for this family as far as he’s concerned. He thinks I can still be ‘saved from my ignorance.’”

The sad, resigned tone of his voice made Maria suddenly feel oddly protective of the young man, despite the fact that he looked like he could take on a bear and win. Connor clearly did long for his father’s approval on some level. “Unless you’re secretly a crazed ax-murderer, any man would be proud to call you his son. And if he doesn’t like Aveline, that’s his problem. Your happiness matters more than his approval.”

Connor gave Maria a small, genuine smile, passing her the second cocktail. “Thank you. You’re too kind.”

She shrugged, hiding her embarrassed grin behind the rim of her glass. Like Malik and Altair, the man was devastating when he smiled. Perhaps that was why God gave them all such tragic pasts; if they were the sort that were happy all the time, the female species wouldn’t have a chance. Aveline was clearly a lucky woman. And the drink he made was damn good.

The southern beauty smiled. “Claudia, you were right; Altair needs to keep this one.”

The Italian model smirked, sipping her drink. “Told you so. And if he doesn’t, I might.”

“ _Si_ , though I’d wait to be sure; he seems quite possessive of his Maria,” Ezio chimed in.

Maria scoffed. “He hasn’t even properly asked me out. He has no claim over me.”

“No, but that hickey on your neck looks pretty fresh; it certainly wasn’t there this afternoon,” Ezio teased. “Unless you and my sister got a little too close?”

“Fine, it is from Altair, but he doesn’t get to call me his until we actually go on a proper date.”

“I’m ashamed he hasn’t. I would have thought he’d invite you to dinner already.”

She bit her lip. “Well, he did invite me to dinner a couple nights ago, but I stood him up because he was being an ass.”

“So you’ve never had dinner together?” Aveline asked.

“We had dinner here the first night, and last night he did take me out for an evening picnic.”

“Alone?”

“Yes.”

“Was it romantic?” Claudia interjected.

“Honestly, it was.”

Ezio asked, “Did you kiss?”

Maria blushed. “Yes.”  _Among other things,_  she added mentally.

“Sounds like a date to me,” said Connor.

She frowned in consideration. They had a point. Horseback riding and a sunset picnic in a private oasis were basically the ultimate fantasy date. He hadn’t actually called it that, but he didn’t seem opposed to them officially dating. He’d said as much at breakfast yesterday, but was a boyfriend really what she wanted right now? Why did everyone seem more focused on her dating life than taking down Robert? Were they that sure of Altair’s plan that they felt it didn’t merit discussion? Or did they simply see her role as just Altair’s girlfriend and not a player in their game?

She was so caught up in her musings that she completely missed Malik leading a couple more guests into the parlor, a pair which Maria would have recognized as the Frye twins. Evie Frye-Green was the CEO of Rook, Inc., and was as stunning as she was professional. She was a role model for any aspiring businesswoman, despite her young age. Everything she did was planned to perfection, even the smallest detail meticulously executed. She was also quite the athlete, known to spend her free time sparring and training with UFC champions from all over the world. Not that she didn’t also have a soft side; the way her husband, Henry Green, doted on her was utterly adorable. From what Maria had read, the Indian man had proposed by hiding flowers all over London, leading Evie back to an antique shop where he’d asked for her hand.

Jacob Frye, meanwhile, was best known for his UFC career, though he apparently stopped into the office once in a while. As handsome as his sister was beautiful, he always seemed to sport a devilish smile whether he was in a sharp tuxedo or covered in blood. Maria had met him once at a gala with Robert; he’d been dressed impeccably but had sported a rather impressive bruise over his eye from his latest fight. He was a bit of a braggart, too; she’d heard him boasting about his championship win from across the room.

Altair strolled over to greet them. “Glad to see you’ve made it here safe and sound. How’s London?”

Evie smiled. “Lovely, though I’m surprised you’re still waiting to deal with de Sable. We could have taken him out before our flight and saved you a whole lot of trouble.”

“Tempting, but I made a promise not to kill him unless there was no other choice.”

Jacob smirked, jerking his head over towards the bar. Maria was being engaged in conversation by Edward, who seemed to be regaling her with one of his adventures while sailing around the Caribbean. “Is that the girl who’s got you by the balls?”

Evie sighed. “Ignore him, Altair. You know my brother’s an idiot.”

“Hey, don’t tell me you’re not curious; a week ago he’d be fine with us killing the French bastard, given what the psychopath’s planning.”

“True, but we appreciate your restraint,” Malik cut in. “Things like this need to be handled delicately.”

“We still could have kidnapped him and let you blokes get a few shots in,” Jacob grumbled. “It’s ridiculous to overcomplicate things like this.”

“This is Altair’s battle, and we’ll handle it how he sees fit,” Evie replied, frowning at her twin.

Jacob ignored her, instead homing in on the Englishwoman who had started laughing at something Ezio said. “Just seems silly to make a promise like that just to get his dick wet, especially to a woman he’s just met.”

Altair glared at him, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him until they were mere inches apart, whispering “Are you challenging my right to decide how de Sable’s handled?”

“Maybe. We took out Starrick far quicker.”

“And nearly tanked London’s economy in the process. It was only your sister’s quick thinking and our intervention that kept things from becoming a disaster. We stick to the plan.”

“The man’s about to sell brainwashing tech to one of the most dangerous countries in the world. Pretty sure the time for action is now,” Jacob sneered, though he couldn't quite hide his guilt at the mention of his screw up.

“I am your superior, in both title and ability. You should know better than to question me.”

The look in Altair’s eye was one few ever wanted directed towards them, and Jacob was no exception. He was brash and impulsive, but he was far from an idiot, and he knew when he was outmatched. Holding up his hands in surrender, Jacob said, “Fine. Do what you like, Al; though if you really wanted to impress your latest squeeze, you should’ve let us bring him. You know you’re a hell of a lot hornier after a fight.”

Just as Altair was about to snarl out something, Malik grabbed his shoulder, quickly leading him out into the hallway. “That’s enough, brother. Or do you want to explain to Maria why you’re assaulting one of your guests?”

Evie pulled Jacob along with them, quietly closing the door. “Not that you don’t deserve it, you prat. Next time you want to pick a fight, save it for the ring.”

Shrugging, Jacob met Altair’s glare. “Truce for now? If you’re still mad, we can settle things on the sparring mats tomorrow.”

“Sounds good to me,” the Arab growled.

Seeming to sense the tension in the air, Arno Dorian strolled over. The Frenchman was one of the newest members of the group but had been vital to dealing with the aftermath of some of their bigger missions. An old friend of Aveline’s and Connor’s, the man had a knack for unifying people for a common goal, being a French ambassador. He had an easy smile and dreamy eyes, though that was mostly because he often found his thoughts drifting towards his girlfriend, Elise, which Jacob took endless pleasure in ribbing him for. “Are you two fighting again? Considering how we’ve got a new addition, perhaps you should both show more discretion.”

“Maria knows what we do,” Altair said dismissively.

“Does she?” Arno asked. “I’m surprised. I was told you’ve known her less than a week. Were you truly so quick to spill our secrets?”

Jacob gave the Frenchman a teasing shove. “After the crap he gave you about telling your girlfriend about us, it’d be quite hypocritical of him, wouldn’t it?”

Altair frowned, brow furrowed. “She knows enough.”

“Define ‘enough,’” Evie said, concerned. “Malik told me she’s been helping you put together the evidence you need for King, but is she aware of what we’ve done to get that evidence? How many people we’ve killed?”

“What about the revolution in Saladin? Does she know of our part in that?” Arno inquired. “Is she aware you killed Majd Addin yourself?”

“Clearly she isn’t, if Al’s promised her he wouldn’t kill de Sable,” Jacob replied dryly. “I’m guessing you gave her the abridged, clean version of what we do. Told her about one or two necessary deaths, but otherwise she has no idea how deep this rabbit hole goes, right?”

At Altair’s stormy expression, Evie frowned. “I’m sure you have your reasons, but we need to know where everyone stands. We’ll do what you think is best, but are you sure about bringing an outsider into this?”

It was Malik who came to Maria’s defense. “She’s just as determined to bring him down as anyone here. She worked closely with de Sable and has been instrumental in getting information about Project Eden. She may not know about some of the darker aspects of our little group, but she has every right to be here.”

“But can we trust her?” asked Evie.

“De Sable used and manipulated her. If anyone wants to see him brought down as badly as I do, it’s her,” Altair stated coldly.

Arno peeked through the door at the woman in question with concern. Apparently, both Edward and Ezio were doing everything they could to ensure she hadn’t noticed their host’s conspicuous absence. He knew from experience that bringing someone in who felt personally betrayed by their target could end badly. When the group had agreed to help him take down Germain, he’d insisted on involving Elise, given how the man had killed her father. Unfortunately, she’d nearly died due to her fanaticism towards making him pay, forcing Arno to keep her at arm’s length when it came to assisting the others with their enemies. They had every right not to trust her, and it still stung that he had to keep secrets from his lover. He did not wish that upon Altair.

Patting his friend on the shoulder, Arno pointed to the door. “Perhaps we should save this argument until after we’ve met her. We’re passing judgment a little quickly,  _non_?”

With a calming breath, Altair agreed, leading them inside to join the others. Logically, he knew they had every right to be suspicious, to question his judgment and Maria’s place in their brotherhood. And despite his promise to be honest with her, he had still left out so much.

Maria was the first woman he’d felt could let down his guard around. And he knew they were probably going too fast, but he was eager to keep her at his side. If she knew just how much blood had actually been spilled in his crusade against de Sable, would she understand? She’d accepted Al Mualim’s death, but would she allow him the same benefit if she heard about Jubair al Hakim? What about William Montferrat? And those were just men associated with Robert. He’d also helped bring down Crawford Starrick, and Francois Germain, among others.

Loathe as he was to admit it, he was terrified of telling Maria of their bloody methods. Because if he did, there was no guarantee she’d stay. He wanted to keep her with him, even if it meant keeping her in the dark.

But the tension in his gut told him that his white lie would not last.

XXX

Introductions towards the last members of their odd band of brothers had gone surprisingly well. Altair wasn’t sure if it was Evie’s minding or simply the desire to see how things would play out, but Jacob had been on his best behavior as he shook Maria’s hand.

Now they were all gathered on the various armchairs and couches, catching up and simply enjoying each other’s company. Currently, at Claudia’s insistence, Maria was regaling the room with hers and Altair’s first meeting.

“So you actually slapped him?” Jacob laughed. “Oh, luv, you and me are gonna get along fine.”

Evie couldn’t quite suppress a snigger. “I’m sure he’s been a perfect gentleman ever since.”

“He has his moments,” Maria chuckled. “Though he still has a long way to go.”

Altair gave her shoulder a playful nip, causing her to squirm in his lap. The man hadn’t given her much of a choice, pulling her down the second he’d chosen his seat and utterly refusing to let go. And while ordinarily she’d resist being manhandled, she could tell from the half-hard erection pressing against her bottom that that was a terrible idea. Fantasy or no, she did not want to find out if he was serious about making her cum in front of his friends. His arm around her waist was distracting enough, his other hand thankfully occupied with a glass of whiskey.

Claudia giggled. “Personally, I think they’re adorable.”

Jacob wrinkled his nose. “Please tell me they’re not as sickening as Evie and Greenie were?”

“Greenie?” Maria whispered.

“Henry Green. Evie’s husband,” Altair murmured in her ear, unable to resist giving it a quick kiss.

“We were not that bad,” Evie grumbled, a slight pout on her lips.

“You were. I was there.” Raising his voice to a mocking falsetto, Jacob said, “‘Oh yes, Mr. Green. That’s a fascinating idea! Oh please, Mr. Green, come and take a look at this book and stand oh-so-close to me, Mr. Green.’”

“I do not—” Evie started, but was cut off by the rest of the room bursting into laughter. Much as she protested, Evie had been rather adorably awkward around her husband.

It was Malik who calmed down first. “I can tell you right now, they’ve been far from sickening sweethearts. This is the first day they’ve managed to avoid arguing. Once he managed to piss her off so much she ditched dinner with him for fast food and clubbing with me.”

 “Is that when he started that brawl?” Ezio asked, voice filled with amusement.

“It was hardly a brawl,” Maria replied. “A couple of idiots decided they wouldn’t take no for an answer, and when Altair and Malik came to my defense, they decided to sic their bodyguards on them.”

“How many men?” Edward chimed in.

Thinking it over, Maria answered, “Including the twins, there were probably about nine of them.”

“Only nine? You’re right, that’s no brawl,” he said, shaking his head. “That’s a slaughter.”

She smiled over her shoulder. “It was a pretty impressive fight.”

“Aye. I’ve seen Altair take on at least double that,” Jacob said. “Unarmed, too. Team him up with Malik and those blighters are lucky they came out in one piece.”

“I’m sure you’re exaggerating.”

“I’m really not. You boy’s quite the fighter.”

“Rauf felt it was important that Malik and I know how to defend ourselves,” Altair cut in, scowling at Jacob over Maria’s shoulder. “He couldn’t always be around to protect us, so he trained us to deal with multiple attackers. Right, Malik?”

“Absolutely,” his brother agreed a little too quickly.

Evie quickly made to change the subject. “You seem to have come a long way since slapping him. How long do you plan to stay in Dubai?”

Shrugging, Maria said, “I’m not sure. I was originally to leave Tuesday, but given the circumstances, it’s rather up in the air.”

“Assuming Altair even lets you go,” Ezio sniggered. “Given that death grip he has on you, I wouldn’t plan on heading back to London anytime soon.”

“If ever,” Claudia added.

The room laughed as Altair made a show of pulling her even closer against him, Maria irritably twisting around to smack his chest.

“I’ll have to head back sooner or later, you know,” she grumbled. “All my things are there.”

“No you don’t. I’ll buy you new things. Anything you need will be yours.”

“I’m quite certain you can’t buy me new family photos.”

“Then I’ll have someone get them.”

“Without a key?”

“My people have many skills. What’s the point of hiring someone if they can’t handle a little breaking and entering?”

Jaw dropping, Maria stared at him, not quite sure if he were joking. He certainly looked serious enough.

It was Connor who broke the tension. “I’m sure he’d send the key along with whomever he sent to get your stuff,” he said calmly.

Arno coughed awkwardly. “Naturally he’s joking. He’d never have anyone do anything so illegal.”

“Absolutely not. We’re all pure as fresh snow,” Jacob chortled. “He never required me to impersonate an officer of Scotland Yard.”

“And I’ve certainly never smuggled him into a country on the brink of war,” Edward replied sarcastically. Realizing that Altair, Malik, Evie, and Claudia were all giving him death glares, he added, “We’re not criminals!”

“We just do as we please,” Jacob whispered, earning an elbow in the ribs from Evie.

Staring at the shipping typhoon in disbelief, Maria said, “Do I look like an idiot?”

All the men in the room froze. There was no right way to answer that. It was like if an outfit made a woman’s ass look big.

Luckily, it was Claudia that saved the day. “Absolutely not. They, however, are.”

Aveline nodded, laugh sweet and pretty as wisteria. “Absolutely. You’ll get used to it.”

“Will I get used to a blatant disregard for the law?” Maria snipped.

Evie shrugged. “The world is seldom black and white. And I’m sure Altair’s told you about the sort of men we deal with. Sometimes, it’s necessary to go outside the law.” She gave her brother a pointed look. “Though it’s not something to brag about.”

Frowning, Maria allowed the group to change the subject, but she found herself suddenly less comfortable in her current company. She was beginning to wonder if Altair’s world was even more cutthroat than she’d thought.

XXX

In a rage, Robert flipped over his heavy, wooden desk. It crashed to the floor, scattering glass paperweights, documents, his laptop, and other assorted supplies across the office. Most didn’t realize it, but despite being in his late fifties, Robert was quite strong, spending much of his free time in his private gym. Discipline of the body was just as important as the mind, and he often found himself beating a sandbag after a particularly frustrating day. It was probably the only thing that prevented him from strangling hapless employees most days. Though right now, his hands certainly longed to wrap themselves around a certain Englishwoman’s neck.

Maria had quit. His beautiful, loyal little soldier had abandoned him, likely defecting over to Creed International. What had they told her? What did they know? Had she found out about the deal with North Korea? No, that was impossible; even if someone in the office had somehow guessed, who would bother to tell Maria? He made sure she was isolated for that very reason, and she wouldn’t believe it without proof. Her sense of justice would never allow her to accuse a man of anything without hard evidence, and even then, she could be swayed with the right reasoning. He’d learned that with Subject 16.

So what made her quit? Had she taken his threats of replacing her too seriously? Unlikely. She fought tooth and nail for everything she had, and he knew she wouldn’t give up her place by his side without a fight. The way she quit certainly didn’t imply that she’d given up. Was Altair’s dick some sort of magic wand, able to cause a woman to switch allegiances at the drop of a hat? Even more unlikely, as while women were fickle and easily manipulated, he had a little more faith in Maria to not be easily swayed by the skill of a man’s cock.

Then what had swayed her? There was no feasible way that Altair knew about the North Korean deal. The man was too focused on chasing skirts when he wasn’t running his company. Robert was honestly shocked it was as successful as it was. The boy had always been brash, arrogant, and obstinate, typically skipping out on business meetings and events whenever he could get away with it. If nothing else, Robert could appreciate how much grief he gave Al Mualim. The Frenchman was quite certain that the only reason he’d taken over the company was to spite his former mentor, erasing every last trace of the old man’s influence by turning it into an energy and luxury resort company. It was that vindictiveness that had led him to believe they might be able to forge a partnership. He knew Altair didn’t like him, but he figured he could appeal to his desire to stick it to the old man, then quietly seize control of Creed International while the fool’s back was turned.

Too many things weren’t adding up. Maria’s sudden departure was only the most recent issue he’d had to deal with. As he’d been going over loose ends he’d have to tie up if he took Korea’s offer, he’d noticed a rather disturbing trend.

Over the past seven years, since Al Mualim’s retirement, the men he’d been closest to had met sudden and unfortunate deaths.

The first to go had been Tamir and Jubair, black market dealers that Robert hadn’t spoken to in years due to their decision to remain allies with the old man. He’d briefly mourned Abu’l Nuquod, as his funding had been key to Project Eden’s earlier undisclosed tests, before Templar Industries had joined with Lionheart Enterprises. William Montferrat and Majd Addin had been more problematic, as they’d been high-profile clients, and it had taken considerable effort to cover up that he’d had any knowledge of their corruption. After that hassle, he’d shied away from openly involving himself with government officials. When Talal had been found dead, he’d been too busy dealing with the Subject 16 fiasco and had had little time to do anything but curse the man for leaving him with this mess. The last to die had been Sibrand. The former head of Al Mualim’s security had started his own clandestine business, selling mercenary services and hitmen. He’d contacted Robert not long after he’d been forced to fire Garnier, rambling about how someone knew about their connection, that they were all in danger. Robert had written off his concerns, as the man had been growing steadily more paranoid over the past several years, and he had more than enough to deal with.

Now, it appeared Sibrand hadn’t been as crazy as he’d thought. No one would have assumed that men from such different walks of life would all be connected, yet as Robert looked over the list, there was no denying that only he and Garnier were left.

It suddenly hit him that the only ones who might know how they were connected were Al Mualim’s disciples; Altair Ibn-La’Ahad and Malik al-Sayf. Had they been systematically eliminating their master’s old allies? If that were the case, why was Robert still alive? Were they simply biding their time, waiting to strike, or were they planning something different? Something wasn’t right.

The main problem, however, was that they now had his secretary. The woman he’d sent in his place in hopes of luring Altair into his trap had backfired. Had Maria spilled sensitive information? Could it be that his lovely pawn was not as easily kept in line as he’d thought? Regardless, she wouldn’t be escaping him so easily. The second she returned to London, he’d be waiting for her, and one way or another, she’d be brought to heel.

Taking a deep, calming breath, he knelt to pick up a few of the wayward items he knocked over. He hated mess and was in no mood to wait for the janitors to clean it all up. A glint in one of the corners of his desk caught his eye. It was almost the exact same color as the mahogany wood, but with the bright, fluorescent lights now shining on it, he could see it was merely painted to look that way, clearly instead made of some sort of metal. Prying the tiny anomaly out of its hiding place, he inspected it closely.

It was a tiny microphone.

Someone had been spying on him.

But who? It couldn’t have been Maria; the woman was nowhere near subtle enough to bug his desk. No one entered his office aside from her without his explicit permission, and his door was locked when he wasn’t in. Only he and Maria had a key.

He froze. The janitors also had a key. How else were they supposed to clean the office when he wasn’t there? He’d made it very clear that he didn’t tolerate mess and disorder, so they did a thorough cleaning every night. And if they were as thorough as he paid them to be, shouldn’t they have noticed the microphone? The only answer was they didn’t remove it because one of them had placed it.

Growling, he opened his laptop and immediately accessed the employee files. Even the maintenance crew had to have photo IDs, background checks, and a roster, right? After a few minutes of searching, he finally found what he was looking for.

Desmond Miles. Half-Syrian, age 25, college dropout, former bartender. American, immigrated to the UK about three years ago. A couple minor brushes with the law that probably made it difficult to find work outside menial labor, but nothing objectionable enough to prevent him from being scheduled to clean the boss’ office.

And an uncanny resemblance to Altair Ibn-La’Ahad.

It wasn’t exact, what with his lighter skin and being a few years younger, but at a glance they could be easily confused. He vaguely remembered seeing a young man going in to clean his office when he left late at night, but he always wore a white hoodie. Robert didn’t associate with janitors; that seemed to be Maria’s cup of tea.

Pieces of the puzzle suddenly clicked. Maria did know. She’d always been on good terms with the janitors. This Desmond must have told her and had likely gathered the hard evidence he needed to convince her. Had she told Altair? Were they plotting against him? How much did they know? How had a fucking janitor gotten access to such delicate spying technology? He certainly didn’t pay the maintenance staff enough to afford something like this. Someone had to be supplying it, or possibly playing the boy.

Another piece fell into place as he crushed the microphone between his fingers.

Pulling on his jacket, he left the office at a brisk walk. If his desk was bugged, there was no guarantee his phone and emails weren’t being monitored, too. Hell, maybe even the security cameras around the building. Haste was needed, but he couldn’t draw suspicion. Exiting the building, he hailed a cab, informing the driver to take the most roundabout route he knew to his destination, all the while glancing out the back window for any sign that he was being followed. Nothing suspicious stood out, but he refused to let his guard down. When they arrived, he tossed a wad of cash at the cabbie, climbing out into the dark, muggy streets.

Walking a few more blocks, he finally arrived at a public phone booth. He was grateful that in this era of cell phones, a few of these things still survived. Glancing about, he immediately dialed a number he was grateful he’d memorized. After the third ring, his old friend answered, their mother tongue oddly comforting.

**“** _**Bonjour** _ **, Robert. Have you made a decision about my employer’s offer?”**

**“** _**Oui** _ **, Garnier, I have. Project Eden is theirs, but they need to do something for me.”**

**“They’re willing to do much for such brilliant technology, my friend. Simply name your price.”**

Robert glanced down at the schedule he’d printed out.  **“Tell them I’ll need a few men to help me take care of something here in London by tomorrow afternoon. Afterwards, have a jet ready to take me to Dubai. I’ll need some armed soldiers there, too. Once I tie up a few loose ends, I’ll happily join you in North Korea. And I’ll be bringing you a couple of test subjects.”**

XXX

Much later, as the festivities went on, Maria pulled Malik aside. “I need to ask you something.”

Frowning, the Arab led her into another room, making sure the door was securely shut. He had the feeling this was a conversation she wanted to keep private. “What is it?”

Anxiously, she paced the room. “You lot have, by your own admission, gone outside the law to do what was necessary.”

“Yes?”

“Does that include murder?”

Malik hesitated. This was really not a conversation he wanted to have, though he knew it would be unavoidable. He just wished she’d go to Altair about it instead of him. “Why do you ask?”

“Those names your friends were dropping sounded familiar, so I did a quick Google search. It appears all of them are dead.”

“And you think we had something to do with it?”

“I know you did. I’m not a fool, Malik. Altair promised me that he would not kill Robert unless necessary, but I can’t help but notice there’s a rather large loophole in that wording. So what I want to know is if you and Altair killed any of those men yourselves, or if you have others do your dirty work.”

Malik’s hackles rose at the disdainful way she spoke. “You know we killed Al Mualim. Are you okay with one death, but not more? Those men were all scum.”

She didn’t rise to the bait, refusing to be distracted. “I believe you. But I’d prefer people stop lying through omission. So I’m only going to ask you once,” she turned and stared him dead in the eye. “Who have you and Altair killed?”

Malik returned the look, unflinching. “You ask a dangerous question, Maria. Are you certain you wish to know the answer? Will you be able to sleep better if you think we merely do reconnaissance, that we leave the actual bloodshed to others? Or are you content to lay with a murderer?”

Swallowing, she stood her ground. “I need to know I can trust him. That means knowing who he really is. So, if you wish for me to leave for London once this is over and never speak of any of this again, by all means, lie. I won’t turn you in. But if you truly wish for Altair and me to be together, tell me the truth; have you and Altair personally killed anyone besides Al Mualim?”

Malik could feel his hand twitch slightly. Damn. She was right. If he lied to her now, she’d eventually learn the truth, and everything between her and Altair would be shattered. With a deep sigh, he replied, “Ordinarily, Rauf takes care of the actual killing, as he can slip under the radar more easily than we can. However, there have been occasions, whether due to opportunity or personal vendettas, where we’ve taken lives with our own hands.”

“Why do you kill?”

“Because those people were like de Sable; cruel, heartless monsters without a care for human decency.” Sitting down on a small couch, he indicated that Maria join him. She remained standing, unsure if she trusted herself near him. “Last year, Altair took it upon himself to kill a man named Talal. He was an old associate of Al Mualim who specialized in human trafficking and supplied Dr. Naplouse with early test subjects for Project Eden. Once the tests went more public, it was up to him to get their remains out of there when things went wrong. It was because of Altair that Clay Kaczmarek’s body was discovered; Talal wasn’t around to clean up the evidence.”

“Oh God,” she said, sinking into a chair.

“Altair also killed a man named Majd Addin. You can ask him yourself for that story. As for me, I have a less impressive list, but I made it my personal mission to take out Abu’l Nuquod. He was the one who paid for the hit that killed my brother. The one de Sable ordered.”

Maria was horrified. Not that they’d killed, but that such men could exist in the world. And once again, Clay’s death was brought to the forefront of her conscience. How had Robert managed to hide everything from her for so long? Why could she still not condemn him to death? “I…I know Robert has done some awful things. Utterly irredeemable things. He needs to be stopped. But I still can’t bear the thought of him being murdered in cold blood.”

“You believe death isn’t the answer?”

“I'm not naive, Malik, nor am I opposed to criminals being put to death. But typically, that’s decided by a jury of their peers, not by a small group of billionaires who answer to no one.”

“It would be no less than he deserves,” Malik said bitterly. “He can sway a judge, get a lighter sentence for cooperating. He’ll find no such lenience with us.”

She looked at him, expression stoic, but there was an unmistakable tremble in her hands. “I know you have damn good reasons to hate him, and yes he’s a monster, but considering how personal your reasons are, I need to ask; have you been bringing these people down in the name of justice, or revenge?”

Taking a deep breath, he said, as calmly as he could, “So long as what we’re doing benefits the world, what does it matter?”

“It’s the difference between you lot being vigilantes or serial killers!” she practically shouted.

Malik glared at her, dark eyes cold and calculating like a snake’s. “And what of you? Are you not blinded by your lingering feelings for your old boss? Don’t tell me you aren’t; you accept the deaths of men like him as a necessary evil, yet you hesitate to pass the same judgment on a man you once cared for!”

Maria froze. He was right. Despite everything she knew, how he’d manipulated her and the danger he posed to the world, there was still a small, pathetic part of her that wanted them to be wrong about Robert. For her boss, the man who had taken her under his wing, given her a chance and saw her as more than a pretty face to swoop in and explain that it had all just been a misunderstanding.

She knew that version of her boss had never been real, but how does one simply dismiss five years of devotion? Perhaps others could, but for her, it was impossible.

Fighting back tears, she asked, “Will you kill him?”

“Altair gave you his word that he wouldn’t unless necessary. He’s extended that oath to the others. We’ll turn him over to King. But I will tell you, if the plan fails, Altair and I will not hesitate to slit de Sable’s throat before he can flee to Korea.” Glancing at the door, he wondered if Altair had noticed their absence. The man didn’t like letting Maria out of his sight for long. “Are there any other questions, or shall we return to the others?”

A stab of fear pierced her heart. She did have another question, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer. Her trust in her host and his associates had already been shaken; could it really survive another blow? Still, she knew if she kept quiet, she’d spend the rest of her days in Dubai a paranoid wreck. Swallowing thickly, she whispered, “Would you have killed me if I hadn’t come over to your side?”

Malik jerked back as if she’d physically struck him. The anger and frustration he’d felt for the woman immediately disintegrated, only to be replaced by hurt. Was that really what she thought of them? That they were power-mad monsters like de Sable, killing indiscriminately to fulfill their lust for vengeance? True, she barely knew most of them, but surely they hadn’t come across as bloodthirsty, had they? Then again, was she really so wrong in her accusation? Shame surged through him as his conscience harshly reminded him that he’d toyed with the idea of killing her just the other day. “No! Maria, every person we target is carefully researched.” Moving from the couch, he kneeled before her, taking one of her hands and capturing her gaze. “If they seem to be doing things under duress, or without realizing the true horrors of their actions, we do what we can to save them. We don’t always succeed, but we only use death as a last resort.”

“Did you ever kill anyone innocent?”

“…yes. Long ago. It’s a mistake Altair has refused to risk ever again.” He peered at her closely. Most of the blood seemed to have drained from her face. “You look pale. I’ll get you some water. Or would you prefer something stronger?”

Unable to do more than nod her head, she watched Malik run off to fetch her drink. It was too much to take in. She could easily forgive them killing Al Mualim, and someone like Talal, but was she really willing to throw in her lot with a band of killers? Even for a noble cause, who were they to take it upon themselves to decide who deserved to live or die?

Altair’s world was beautiful, but the darkness it hid scared her. Another terrifying question danced across her mind, one she couldn’t bring herself to ask; now that she knew their little secret, would they let her leave? Claudia, Edward, and the others all seemed quite fixated on her staying in Dubai with Altair; was it their way of telling her that she didn’t have a choice? Would Altair force her to stay with him to protect their secrets? Malik said they wouldn’t kill her, but that didn’t mean she was safe. There were other ways to ensure her silence, after all. For people as powerful as them, who could kill without being caught and bring down corporate empires, surely keeping one woman prisoner was child’s play.

If he wanted to, Altair didn’t have to let her go. He could lock her away, erase her existence from the world. Few people would come looking for her, and he went through girlfriends so quickly that even the press would just assume he’d quietly dumped her and moved on. If necessary, he could even fake her death. There was nothing stopping him.

All of a sudden, Maria wasn’t sure what scared her more; being killed or being their prisoner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing for so many characters is exhausting. Sorry if you feel your favorite didn't get enough screen time. I'll try not to leave anyone out when I can help it. Anyway, feel free to drop me a comment telling me what you think!


	12. Ill at Ease with Morality Ambiguities

Not long after she and Malik reappeared, Altair noticed that Maria was being uncharacteristically quiet. He gave his old friend a questioning glance, who merely shook his head solemnly. Clearly, whatever they’d discussed had upset her, and now it was up to Altair to set things right. Around ten o’clock he tapped her shoulder, jerking his head in a silent offer to escort his English companion to her room. With a strained smile she agreed, though he noticed that she flinched at his touch.

Bidding his companions good night, they walked in silence to her room, Altair allowing her to keep almost a foot of space between them. Something was definitely wrong, and he was determined to find out what, to heal this rift now rather than risk it festering like an infected wound. They were at too critical a point to allow petty animosity or arguments to interfere.

When they reached Maria’s room, Altair followed her inside, closing the door and walking over to where she sat on the bed. It worried him that she avoided his gaze, but he didn’t push the issue. He could see how tense she was, and as much as he wanted to ask what had happened, he simply stood and waited, letting her speak when she was ready.

After a few nerve-racking moments, she finally said, “Malik told me about what you’ve done. That Al Mualim isn’t the only man you’ve killed.”

He winced. Damn. The revelation was unavoidable; she was a smart woman, and the others were hardly subtle tonight, but he’d hoped to inform her of that troublesome aspect of his past himself. Though, admittedly, he should have told her sooner; it was a dire miscalculation to assume she wouldn’t figure things out just by speaking to the others. What was he expecting, putting her in a room with Jacob and Edward? “Yes.”

“Why did you lie to me?”

“Lie?”

“You told me you only killed Al Mualim.” Her voice was strained, as if it took all her years of practice dealing with belligerent businessmen to keep herself from exploding. Grey eyes remained fixated on the floor, intense gaze practically boring a hole in the marble.

“I never said that. You asked if I’d killed anyone. I told you about Al Mualim. You never asked if he was the only person I’ve had to kill.”  _For good reason,_  he thought wryly.  _With the state she was in, she’d have run away, and it’s too dangerous for that now._

Her hands balled into fists. “That’s still lying through omission.”

“What are you upset at me for; inadvertently lying, or killing? Every man I or anyone downstairs has killed, we did for the greater good.”

She shot to her feet, fury and disgust in her eyes as she finally met his. “The greater good? Don’t act like this is some noble cause. This is a crusade for vengeance, pure and simple!”

“Everyone we killed was scum!” he snapped, in no mood to mince words. He’d wanted to stay in control, to keep his voice calm and placating, but Maria’s accusation hit him harder than he’d expected. How dare she question his cause? Robert and his lot deserved everything he did to them and more.

“I don’t doubt that, and I’m sure the world is a better place without them, but the problem is that you have no one to answer to!” Storming over to him, she gave him a hard shove, forcing him to take a step back. “Is there a single person in that room who’s willing to stop you if you go too far? Or do they all think money and power gives them the right to determine who lives and who dies?”

“Because we answer to no one, we’re able to make such decisions without bias.” The words were harsh, ground out through his teeth, and his own hands balled into white-knuckled fists.

“Without bias?! You didn’t kill those men because they were evil; you killed them because they were connected to Robert!”

“De Sable is evil, and the people he works with are just as bad!”

“I worked with him, too!”

“You were different.”

“How was I different? Because I was too stupid to notice his crimes, or because I’ve got a vagina you can fuck?”

The last vestiges of Altair’s control finally snapped and he grabbed her arm, pulling her close. “Is that really what you still think of me? That I’m only interested in your body? That I’d discard you after I’ve given you a good dicking?” Rage turned his body into a furnace, hands into vises, and eyes into brilliant embers. Everything about him was suddenly so intense that Maria immediately tried to pull away, but he kept her in place.

She glared, her own eyes as sharp and cold as a newly-polished blade. “Why shouldn’t I? I have no idea who you are. One minute you’re the cool, professional businessman, but next the crude playboy, or the sweet, lonely soul. Then I meet your friends and find that beneath that, you’re a killer with a twisted view of what’s right and wrong!”

“You have too narrow a view of the world. What’s right and wrong changes from culture to culture. Why should I follow laws if society can’t even agree on them?”

“This isn’t about the law, it’s about basic morality. Killing another person in cold blood is the one thing all cultures can agree is a sin, and here you are plotting to do just that!”

Nostrils flared in irritation. “I promised you that I wouldn’t kill Robert.”

“And Robert promised me that Project Eden would save lives. How do I know you’re not lying to me just to get my cooperation? Hell, how do I know you’ll even let me go when this is all over?”

Involuntarily, Altair’s hand squeezed tightly, red clouding his vision. “You think I’m like Robert?!” he shouted.

Maria’s face crumpled in pain, immediately attempting to pull away. “Let me go!”

“I will do whatever it takes to protect the world from that madman. To protect you!”

“Let. Me. Go!” she shouted, slapping him across the face as hard as she could.

Immediately he obeyed, a look of shock crossing his face as the sharp sting cleared his mind. Maria was clutching her arm, agony etched across her features. The blood drained from his face as he realized he’d been squeezing her arm right over her bruise.

He’d hurt her. More than that, he’d heard her tell him to stop, but ignored it, blinded by his own rage and desire to get through to her. She had every right to slap him. To doubt his promises.

To compare him to Robert.

“Maria, I’m sorry—”

“Get out,” she said stiffly, refusing to look at him. “Clearly, we’re not going to have a productive conversation right now, so I’d very much appreciate it if you’d leave me alone for the moment.”

“I never meant to hurt you.”

“I’m sure you didn’t. Just like you didn’t mean to lie to me or put me in a room full of killers.”

Visibly deflating, he turned around and headed to the door. Much as he wanted to stay, to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness, he knew there was nothing he could do at that moment to make up for what he’d done. Instead he’d be forced to wait until she was willing to speak to him again, left to stew in his own guilt and self-loathing and pray to a god he didn’t believe in that she’d be willing to forgive him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, closing the door behind him.

With tears in her eyes, Maria ran over and locked the door, whispering, “I’m sorry, too.”

XXX

Hours later, Maria was in bed, fitfully tossing and turning. The pain in her arm had dulled to a practically non-existent throb, but she could have been on fire for all she knew, ensnared as she was in the dream that overwhelmed her mind.

_ She was in the Templar Industries testing lab. Stark white walls practically blinded her as the florescent lights shown down onto the various stainless-steel tables and mechanical equipment. The Animus, the crown jewel of Project Eden’s advanced equipment, held a place of honor in the room. _

_ A young man sat on one of the examination tables. He was blonde, solidly built, and moderately handsome. His pale eyebrows made the lines of his forehead and nose look harsh, and his icy blue eyes were sharp and piercing, but his crooked smile was warm and lazy. Despite being seated he was obviously tall, and his broad shoulders and large hands spoke of a life of physicality. He stuck out one of those hands, and Maria found herself taking it without even thinking. As soon as their skin touched, she remembered; this was the day she met Clay Kaczmarek. _

_ “So, how long have you been working here?” Clay asked, eyes softening slightly as she shook his hand. _

_ Maria hesitantly returned the grin. “About four years now. Thank you for volunteering for Project Eden.” _

_ He shrugged. “Figured it was worth a shot. Depression sucks, so if this’ll kick its ass, it’s worth being someone’s lab rat.” _

_ “You don’t seem depressed,” she observed. _

_ “It’s never as obvious as being sad all the time. Some days I’m fine, but others I can barely muster up the motivation to get out of bed. It makes it difficult to live an ordinary life, you know?” _

_ “I suppose I get that. What made you decide to try genetic memory therapy, though? Not to dissuade you, but it is still highly experimental.” Maria mentally smacked herself. Damn. If she’d just scared off a willing candidate, Robert would be furious. _

_ “Why not? What is a man but the sum of his memories? We are the stories we live. The tales we tell ourselves.” _

_ Her smile returned. She hadn’t expected that answer. “Very philosophical. Tell me, Mr. Kaczmarek, what do you do for a living?” _

_ “What, it’s not in my file?” he teased. _

_ Despite herself, she chuckled. “Probably, but why go through a boring old file when I can ask the man of the hour himself?” she joked back. _

_ Clay’s grin widened, blue eyes twinkling with mirth. “Hmm, why should I reveal all my secrets now? Get rid of the mystery, and I’ll have nothing to entice you to go out with me afterward.” _

_ Perfectly arched eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Are you asking me out?” _

_ He shrugged again, this time a bit more self-consciously. “Why not? You’re pretty, and you’re the first person here to talk to me like I’m a person instead of a test subject.” _

_ It irritated her that he was probably right. She’d have to talk to Robert about their scientists’ bedside manner. “It’s typically considered a bad idea to date patients.” _

_ “You’re not my doctor, so why should it be a problem?” _

_ She shifted uneasily. “I’m not sure…” _

_ “Look, if you’re not interested, you can just say so. I promise I won’t be offended.” _

_ “It’s not that!” she insisted. “It’s just I tend to have a lot going on. My work schedule tends to make relationships a bit difficult.” _

_ “Doesn’t mean it’s not worth putting yourself out there.” His tone became teasing again. “You like spicy foods?” _

_ A small grin came to her lips. “I love spicy foods.” _

_ “Then let me take you to dinner. I know an Indian place that serves curry that’s to die for,” he said, winking. _

_ She laughed. “Well, with an offer like that, how can I refuse? All right, Clay, you’ve convinced me. Once your treatment’s done, it’s a date.” _

_ The blonde visibly relaxed, as if her positive answer had removed a great weight from his shoulders. “Excellent. It’ll give me something to look forward to while I’m poked and prodded.” _

_ “There won’t be any poking and prodding. Mr. de Sable told me the Animus is completely painless.” _

_ Rolling his eyes, Clay gestured around the room. “It’s a doctor’s office. There’s always poking and prodding. But I guess I’ll just have to grin and bear it. Story of my life, honestly.” _

_ “I’m guessing you’ve had a rough life,” she observed. _

_ “Yeah, and with the depression, it makes everything harder. Most days, I feel like I’m wearing a mask just to get through the day.” _

_ Her hand seemed to move without permission from her brain, clasping his shoulder. “I’m sure a lot of people can relate.” _

_ “Like you?” he asked, peering at her curiously. _

_ “Excuse me?” _

_ “Do you wear a mask to get through the day?” _

_ She gave a cynical smile. “Don’t we all?” _

_ Clay chuckled darkly. “I guess we do.” _

_ As he spoke, blood bubbled up from his eyes, nose, and mouth, drizzling down onto his lap. Long slashes opened across his arms, more blood welling up and pouring onto the floor. The heavy iron scent filled the room, choking her as words, clearly written in blood, appeared on the walls. Much of it didn’t make sense, but some bits stood out: SAVE ME! TORTURE! PROJECT EDEN IS A LIE! The fluorescent lights dimmed, and the Animus glowed a brilliant crimson, sparking and crackling as it emitted a sound frighteningly like people screaming in agony. _

_ Horrified, Maria stumbled back, scream caught in her throat. She tripped over her own feet, falling backward, only to be caught by a pair of strong arms. They felt familiar, and she twisted her head to look at her savior. It was Altair, but his face looked…off. Too stiff, without even a hint of emotion across it. Even his eyes didn’t look right, almost as if they were just a detailed facsimile of those beautiful, golden orbs she’d come to admire. _

_ “Not pretty, is it?” he said coldly, voice low and hard. “This is all because of your precious Robert. Still think he deserves to live? Or will you continue to protect him?” _

_ “It’s not my call to make. Or yours!” she shouted, trying to pull out of his arms, but his grip held tight, arms wrapping completely around her torso in a sick parody of a loving embrace. _

_ “Then whose?” _

_ “I don’t know!” _

_ “You just don’t want his blood on your hands. Honorable, proper, virtuous Maria, willing to martyr herself to protect others. It makes you so easy to take advantage of.” His voice suddenly changed, his smooth, Middle-Eastern accent morphing into silky French. “You know if you let him kill me, you’ll be left alone with your sins. There will be no one but you to blame for Subject 16, or any of the other experiments that were right under your nose.” _

_ Altair’s face clattered to the floor, cold and perfect as porcelain. Maria looked behind her again and gasped as she met Robert’s smirking visage. _

_ Powerful arms tightened around her chest, squeezing the breath out of her. “You need me, Maria. You need someone to tell you what to do, to give all the pretty answers necessary to go through your day with a clear conscience. Someone to idolize, to tell you that life is a fairy tale where the good are just and right and the bad are cruel and ugly.” _

_ Immediately, she resumed her struggles, jerking her shoulders and kicking her legs, but Robert held fast. “I don’t need you!” _

_ “Yes, you do. You’re weak. You’re nothing without a man to tell you what to do, what to think.” His voice dropped to a lover’s whisper, hot breath caressing the fine hairs at the back of her neck. “Come back to me, Maria. I can make it all right. Everything will make sense again. Black and white. Right and wrong. Good and evil. Side with Altair and all that moral surety melts away.” He leaned down and murmured in her ear, “Come back to me, and I’ll give you all the answers you need to hear. Come be the angel on my shoulder again.” _

_ Sobbing, she looked at Clay’s still-bleeding body. This was Robert’s doing. No pretty answers would ever change that. _

_ “I won’t. I don’t care what I have to do, I won’t let you get away with this!” she screamed. _

_ “Then you’ll let me kill him?” came Altair’s voice at her ear. Robert’s face tumbled over her shoulder and fell to the floor, shattering against the tiles. A nose rubbed against the tender skin beneath her ear, and she knew it was the Arabian billionaire’s. The constricting arms around her loosened but didn’t release her. “You’ll let me rid the world of that monster?” _

_ “I don’t know,” she cried. “That’s not my call to make.” _

_ “Do you want him to die? Don’t lie to yourself. He killed Clay, killed Kadar. He hurt you, used you, raped you. He should suffer for what he’s done.” _

_ Rage filled her. Altair was right. Robert had killed innocent people, drugged her, raped her, manipulated her for his own sick purposes. He deserved to die. Altair was more than willing, more than capable. He’d rid the world of that monster, and she’d happily spit on his grave. _

_ But she didn’t have the right to make that call. Because if she told Altair to kill him, it wouldn’t be to make the world a better place. It would be out of vengeance. _

_ She deflated, held aloft solely by Altair’s strong arms. “I want him to die. But I can’t kill him.” _

_ “Then let me.” _

_ “I can’t. It will only bring more pain.” _

_ “I’m accustomed to pain.” _

_ A cracking noise grabbed her attention, and she turned to see Altair’s beautiful face splitting in two. She cried out, terrified, as the pieces fell to the floor, leaving behind a black, gaping void. _

_ “Maria? Maria, wake up!” _

Eyes snapping open, she nearly screamed again as Altair’s concerned face filled her vision. He quickly covered her mouth with a rough, warm palm, muffling her shout. After a minute, he slowly released her, sure that she wasn’t going to raise an unnecessary alarm.

Gasping, she whispered harshly, “What are you doing in my room?”

“I heard you screaming. I was worried.”

“How the bloody hell did you get in?”

“I have a spare key in case of emergencies. This seemed like one.”

She took stock of the state of the bed. Blankets had been kicked to the floor, pillows strewn about, and the cool air kissed her sweaty skin. Detangling herself from the sheets that had wrapped themselves around her legs, she climbed out of bed, tossed on a dressing gown and pushed past Altair. Gently he caught her elbow, barely even holding it, but it made Maria freeze nonetheless.

“Where are you going?” his voice was tired but gentle, as if he were afraid of upsetting her further.

“I need some air.”

“I’ll join you.”

She snorted. “Making sure I don’t escape?”

“Were you planning to?”

“I merely intend to go for a walk to clear my head.”

“I intend to go with you.”

“I’d prefer to go alone.”

“And I’d prefer to make sure you didn’t do anything stupid, like run off into the desert.”

“You think I’d be such an idiot?” she snapped.

His eyes narrowed slightly, and his voice was stern. “You’re prone to disappearing without warning when we’ve fought in the past. I’d rather keep you where I can see you.”

The air between them was heavy with tension before Maria finally spat out, “Fine,” before marching off. He followed, easily keeping up with her despite her brisk pace. Just beyond the threshold, she noticed a sketchbook and a couple pencils. “Were you sitting outside my door?”

Apologetically, he shrugged. “I found I couldn’t sleep, and I was worried. It’s how I heard your screaming.”

Pale cheeks reddened, and she was grateful the hall was only illuminated by moonlight. “Was I that loud?”

“Yes. I thought someone had broken in and was hurting you.”

“The only one breaking and entering is you,” she snapped, but there wasn’t as much malice behind it as she might have intended.

For the next twenty minutes, she aimlessly wandered the top floor of the mansion, not even acknowledging her persistent shadow. They needed to talk, but she had no idea how to get her thoughts across. That dream, while utterly terrifying, had given her greater insight as to why she was so upset, but how could she make Altair understand?

Finally fed up with the suffocating silence, Altair placed a hand on her back and led her downstairs, ignoring her whispered protests. Taking her to a wing of the house she hadn’t explored, he opened an intricately carved wooden door and not-so-gently pushed her through, flicking on a light as he passed.

Despite her instinct to yell at him, Maria was shocked into silence as she looked around the enormous library. Two stories high, lined with balconies and spiral staircases, boasting shelves of books that covered nearly every inch of the walls, it was grander than any other library she’d ever seen. The urge to run her fingers over the spines of the rainbow of books, tomes, and manuscripts made her breath catch. The moonlight peeked through enormous stained-glass windows. A massive chandelier hung from the ceiling, illuminating the room just enough to see the stunning paintings hanging wherever the shelves couldn’t cover. There was one of Malik in his prime, sword in hand, lunging forward to bring down an opponent. The painting was so exquisitely done, it almost looked as if he might leap off the canvas. Nearby hung a painting of a young man reading some worn and enormous tome. The figure was maybe in his late teens, barely an adult, and for a moment Maria thought it might be another portrait of Malik. Upon closer inspection, she found the eyes were a striking shade of blue, like the ocean on a clear day. His hair was also messier than she was sure Malik would have allowed himself, and his face was slightly rounder.

“That’s Kadar,” Altair murmured in her ear. She hadn’t even heard him approach but was silently pleased with herself for not jumping. “I finished that painting perhaps a month before he died. He loved to read. We spent many hours together in this library, attempting to lose ourselves in books, hoping to hide from the pain of the outside world.”

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered. It truly was. Despite her irritation with the man, she had to admit Altair was a talented artist. The painting was so detailed she felt, if she dared touch the canvas, her fingers might encounter human skin, not paint.

“He would have liked you. Even as a boy he had a weakness for strong, assertive women. Kadar would have followed you around like a lost puppy. If it weren’t for the accident, perhaps you would have met. He’d been planning on studying in London for University.”

She smiled sadly. “Perhaps. I went to an all-girls college, but we did have a couple co-ed classes that we shared with other universities.”

A tiny smile twitched on his face before returning to his original stern expression. Bringing her to the library should have been a special moment, but now it was a tactical move; it was far from any of the bedrooms so the others wouldn’t hear their inevitable argument. With luck, it might even calm her down enough to allow him to get his point across.

“I know you’re angry with me,” he began, “and you have every right to be. Again, I’m sorry that I hurt you. But we need to talk this over like adults. There is too much at stake for us not to trust each other.”

“Trust?” she asked, pulled out of her thoughts.

He sat down on a nearby loveseat, and she cautiously joined him. “Yes, trust. You didn’t trust me enough to come to me with your concerns, and I didn’t trust you enough to reveal the full extent of what myself and the others have done. I understand it’s difficult to forgive me, but please, put yourself in my place; I was raised by an arms dealer who taught me that death, corruption, and manipulation were normal business tactics. That the only people worth associating with were those I could use to further my goals. I was under constant surveillance, forced to endure training from hell and unable to trust anyone for fear that they could be one of Al Mualim’s spies. I dealt with the immense pressure by shirking my responsibilities whenever possible, learning to abuse every loophole to avoid punishment. 

“When Kadar, my only real friend, died because of our mentor’s tactics, I vowed to destroy him and everyone else involved with his schemes. Yet they were borderline untouchable by the law, and there was no way to prove de Sable’s involvement, so I’m left with no choice but to take matters into my own hands. So, for eight years I’m forced to wait, to chip away at his defenses through sabotage and subterfuge, using the skills the old man taught me to scour his influence from the earth. I find others of similar minds, but my past has made it difficult to fully trust even them. For years, I’ve learned to put on personas, masks to protect myself. I’ve become so good at it even those I have let in can’t always tell which is the real me anymore.”

Carefully, as if afraid he might hurt her again, he grasped her hands. He sighed despondently, thumb rubbing softly over her knuckles. “The last time I truly opened my heart to someone, it ended…badly. I realized that she couldn’t love the real me, just the man I pretended to be. You’re the first person in a long time I’ve wanted to be honest with. You make me think beyond basic pleasure and revenge. I never meant to hurt you, Maria. I lo—care for you too much.” His heart stuttered. Was he that tired, that he would be so careless with his words?

Either not noticing, or simply ignoring, his near-slip, Maria replied, “You’ve had a fucked up life, haven’t you?”

Despite the gravity of the situation, he had to laugh at her bluntness. “Yes, I suppose I have.”

“I guess I shouldn’t have been too surprised, then; anyone who endured what you have would turn out a bit twisted.”

That sobered him up substantially. “Yes. Rauf often voices surprise at how sane we appear on the surface. Al Mualim, and our quest for vengeance, has not made normal human interaction easy. Holding ourselves apart from others is far easier than risking the pain of loss.”

A minute passed as the two simply sat in contemplative silence. Finally, Maria spoke.

“I stayed with Templar Industries because I thought it was the right thing,” she said, squeezing his hand. “I’m sure you felt the same in your quest, and maybe those men did deserve to die. But no one man should play judge, jury, and executioner. You should have done what you’re doing now; compiling evidence to bring to the authorities.”

Frustrated, he carded his fingers through his hair. “If I could guarantee a fair trial, don’t you think I’d have done so? Yet if this,” he indicated his missing finger, “has taught me anything, it’s that the justice system is a sham. Evidence can be destroyed or forged. Judges can be bribed. Juries can be misled. So often, guilty men go free, emboldened by the knowledge that the system designed to keep them in check is broken. Then they hurt others, and the cycle starts anew.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s up to you to decide their fate.”

“No, you’re right. Tell me, though, if not us, who? The people we hunt are so powerful, most don’t even have a government to answer to. Have you ever heard of Majd Addin?”

She frowned. “Yes. Another of your victims, apparently. He was the king of some tiny, Middle-Eastern country four years ago. He was actually a client of Robert’s; he ordered quite a bit of state-of-the-art medical equipment.”

“That he did, but he never allowed the general population to use it. Only the rich and elite were given medical treatment; everyone else had to fend for themselves. His country was small, but his ego and thirst for power were great. He had people publicly executed, claiming them to be ‘enemies of the state,’ but in reality, it was because he got off on the power.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I can, because he confessed it to me before he died.”

Nervously chewing her lip, she said, “Malik told me that you killed him, but the reports say the starving populace attacked the palace and overthrew him.”

“That’s not a complete lie. We helped the revolutionaries break into the palace, but with the chaos below as a distraction, I was able to sneak into his room and kill him. Fitting as a public execution might have been, we couldn’t risk him getting away.”

“Why did you take it upon yourself? Why couldn’t you leave it to the authorities?”

“The UN tried to bring him to heel, but like North Korea, he was a madman with powerful weapons. Weapons that had been provided by Creed International back when Al Mualim was in charge.”

She jerked back, startled. “So, you felt it was your responsibility?”

“Yes. I also wanted to give him a chance to repent for his crimes.” The billionaire shook his head sadly. “He showed no remorse.”

_ Altair stood in Majd Addin’s opulent bedchamber, staring at the man in question. It sickened him how this so-called ruler lavished himself in silks and jewels and fancy cars, while his people starved. The man’s palace would have even made the elite of Dubai wrinkle their nose at the conspicuous consumption. Everything, from the television sets to the door locks, were state-of-of-the-art, even though much of the people in the cities below lived in little more than wretched shacks. _

_ The man himself was standing on a balcony, frantically trying to control the furious mob below.  _ **_ “Silence! I demand silence! Listen to me! You will cease this foolishness at once! You do not truly wish to harm your beloved ruler; this is the work of malcontents sowing the seeds of discourse among you. Surrender, turn over your leaders, and I will be merciful!” _ ** _  Despite his proud words, from Altair’s position in the shadows, he could see how Addin shook as the rabid revolutionaries below thundered at his door.  _ **_ “If you do not stop, I will have my men kill each and every one of you, then go after your families, friends, and anyone else even remotely connected to this revolution. Is that what you want?” _ **

_ The crowd simply roared louder. It was clear every word from their wretched monarch was pure bravado; his private security team had been taken out, the electric fences, machine guns, and attack dogs dealt with, leaving the starving populace with little more than a wrought-iron gate in their way. _

_ Retreating back inside, Addin went for the phone, only to find not even so much as a dial tone. Without warning, the lights shut off, plunging the room into darkness, save for the fading rays of the sun. Altair smirked coldly. Arno had come through brilliantly, ensuring all communications in or out of the palace were cut off. With Leo’s technological wizardry, he’d also ensured that the fail-safe for the electronic locks throughout the palace wouldn’t activate, every door sealed shut. The whole property was a dead zone, not even capable of showing up on radar until the Frenchman returned power. Majd Addin was utterly trapped. _

_ Hood drawn over his eyes, the handsome assassin stepped into the light.  _ **_ “It seems your approval ratings have plummeted,”  _ ** _ he said, _

_** “Who are you?” ** _ **** _ the ruler cried, whirling around, searching for the voice. _

_** “The man who will kill you.” ** _ **** _ The knife in his hand glittered in the dim beams of the sun, and he relished the fear that flashed in Addin’s eyes. _

_** “Kill me?” ** _ **** _ he asked, backing away.  _ **_ “I am a king! If you so much as touch me, I’ll have you executed.” _ **

_** “You have no guards, no weapons, and your starving people are howling for your blood. You are powerless.” ** _

_** “The people will be brought to heel, and I’ll have your head for daring to threaten me. You, and the rest of those damn revolutionaries!” ** _

_ Altair’s glare was dark and bitter, the familiar feel of the blade in his hand his only comfort.  _ **_ “You’ve killed innocent people. Do you intend to defend yourself as the other have and explain away you evil deeds?” _ **

_** “Evil? I kept the peace by silencing dissident voices.” ** _

_** “I saw your last public execution. Truly, there are no greater enemies to your rule. What were their crimes again? There was a woman who refused to lay with you, a beggar who found a single coin on the ground, a gambler, and a man whose religion differs from yours. With justice like that, it’s astounding any would think to overthrow you.” ** _ **** _ Sarcasm dripped from his lips, thick as honey. _

_** “You! You were the one who set forth this mad revolution! They would never have set so much as a foot out of place if it hadn’t been for you!” ** _

_ Altair resisted the urge to roll his eyes. How far into denial could one man sink?  _ **_ “They were more than happy to take you down when we got here. We did little more than unlock your doors.” _ **

_ At the word “door,” Addin darted towards the exit, frantically tugging at the handle. Knowing his prey had no place to run, Altair gracefully stalked forward like a tiger, confident in his own prowess. _

_** “Your reign is over, and the people are free. Do you have anything to say in your defense?” ** _

_ Turning to face his assailant, the murderous king’s face twisted in rage. The knowledge he was trapped clearly tipped him over the edge from being terrified to defiant fury.  _ **_ “I am a king! Everything I’ve done is because it is my right! Those people are little more than insects, swarming and biting, just begging to be stepped on. They deserved it for defying their betters!” _ **

_** “You killed people simply for believing differently than you.” ** _

_ Sensing his end was near, a mad glint appeared in Addin’s eye.  _ **_ “Ha! Of course not! I killed them because I could. Because it was fun! Do you know what it feels like to determine another man’s fate? I’m like a god!” _ **

_ He gave a disdainful snort.  _ **_ “You’re no god; you’re no better than a spoiled child.” _ **

_ Finally taking the time to take a good look at his assassin, the ruler began laughing.  _ **_ “You call me a spoiled child? I know you! You are Al Mualim’s protégé. You can’t tell me he didn’t instill in you a thirst for power. You’d have done the same thing in my place.” _ **

_ For a single heartbeat, Altair hesitated. Yes, Al Mualim had instilled in him the benefits of power. It was the ultimate freedom, as no one could stop you from taking whatever you wanted. Altair had once relished in it, enjoying women, fast cars, and the knowledge that the only man he answered to was his mentor. But the man’s death had taught him that, even with all the money and power in the world, no man was untouchable. Power was fleeting and must be used with care.  _ **_ “Once, perhaps. But then I learned what happened to those who elevate themselves above others.” _ **

_** “And what’s that?” ** _

_** “Let me show you,” ** _ **** _ Altair replied before lunging forward, gleaming blade slitting open his throat. _

_ Choking on his own blood, Majd Addin attempted to claw at him, but Altair merely knocked him to the ground. Golden eyes cold and considering, he sat through the long, agonizing minutes it took for the ruler’s heart to finally stop. There was no satisfaction as he watched him die; just another name checked off his list. _

_ Closing the king’s eyes, Altair leapt from the balcony just as he heard the iron gate collapse. In moments, the people would find their ruler’s body, and they would know that the reign of Majd Addin had truly ended. _

Maria stared at him, disgust and understanding warring in her mind. “What of the people, Altair? Did killing him cause his country to stabilize?”

He met her eyes unflinchingly. “No, our actions in the aftermath did. It wasn’t easy, but it was our mess to clean up. Connor and Arno played a big part in that. They both helped organize the revolution, then guide them towards the democracy they have today and convince them to turn over the weapons to the UN. Edward smuggled in food and medicine to those who needed it, avoiding the typical red tape. Creed International was more than happy to make several charitable donations to aid and relief programs and are currently the main solar energy provider for the country. Especially the new hospitals.”

“Hospitals Templar Industries donated X-Rays, MRI machines, and several thousand vaccinations to,” she pointed out.

He gave her a rueful smile. “Yes. It was one of the few times I doubted whether I should kill de Sable. I wondered if perhaps he was a better man than I’d thought, or felt remorse for his past and wished to make up for it. Had that been the case, perhaps I would have been willing to spare his life. Then I found out about his partnership with Talal, and my resolve returned tenfold.”

Maria worried her lips, considering his words. “So, you kill, but you also try to minimize the damage, and change the world for the better.”

“I know it’s a lot to take in. I’m sure when you offered to help me, you weren’t expecting to be in league with a group of killers, but I promise you, we do not kill indiscriminately.” The soft skin of her hand was soothing, and he rubbed his thumb in little circles across her palm. “Nothing is true. Everything is permitted. The world is not black and white, or even shades of grey. It’s color and madness and beauty and pain and hate and love. People should be free to experience all of this, not oppressed by those who would use their power for ill. That is what we believe, and work to protect.”

“I’m still afraid.”

“No one here would hurt you. You heard how much they all loved you down there.” He moved to touch her cheek, feeling his heart clench when she flinched from his touch. “Are you afraid of me?”

“Yes,” she said forlornly.

“Do you truly believe I’d hurt you?”

“I don’t know. I want to trust you. I understand why you’ve killed, but Robert was able to justify his actions, too.”

“Do you think I’m like him?” This time, he kept his anger in check. Lashing out like a child would set him right back to square one, and he would not risk losing Maria because of his temper.

“There are undeniable similarities. That’s why I’m afraid. I don’t want you becoming Robert. Or Al Mualim.”

He couldn’t deny her reasoning. Sometimes, late at night when sleep evaded him, he wondered whether he was slowly becoming his mentor, using his power to go above the law, with no one to stop him if he ever went too far. “Is that why you don’t want me to kill him?”

“Altair, Robert deserves to die, but revenge isn’t the answer. He went after you, killed Kadar and crippled Malik, because he felt he needed to pay Al Mualim back for attempting to sabotage his work. Revenge was what started this whole mess. It can’t be the thing that ends it.” Reaching out, she stroked his cheek. “If the plan doesn’t work, if there’s no other choice but to kill him to save the free world, then you have my blessing. But do it to protect the living, not to avenge the dead. Can you really say Kadar would approve of you killing in his name?”

Leaning into her palm, he smiled at her. “No, he wouldn’t. I suppose that’s why I’m so drawn to you; you don’t justify my actions. Malik’s the only other person who even tries, but deep down he’s more twisted with grief than I.” Sighing, he savored her touch as if he might never feel it again. “I don’t deserve you, but I do need you. I need you to keep me in check, to keep me from becoming what I hate.”

She gave a wry grin. “That’s a lot of pressure to put on a woman you’ve known less than a week.”

Reverently, he turned his head enough to kiss her palm. “I know enough. You’re smart, have a strong moral compass, and are compassionate beneath your hard shell.” Removing her hand from his face, he lightly kissed the tips of her fingers. “I also know you’re feisty, stubborn, and prone to impulsive actions despite your supposed need for order. I’d love to get to know you more, for as long as you’ll let me.”

Despite the faint flush that came to her cheeks, her eyes were sad. “I’m still not sure I belong here.”

Warm lips kissed her knuckles comfortingly, the faint stubble around his mouth mildly tickling her soft skin. “I know I messed up your life, but I want to right the wrongs I’ve made. Any position at my company is yours. You can stay in the mansion, or I’ll help you find an apartment.”

“When this is all over, will you let me go?”

His brow furrowed in confusion as he removed his lips from her hand, meeting her eyes intently. “I told you, you’re not a prisoner. You can go anywhere you like.”

“Even home?”

He hesitated, his throat closing in despair. The cynical part of his brain scolded his heart for clenching at her words. He should have been prepared for this. No amount of apologies or pretty libraries or tragic backstories could convince a woman like Maria to abandon everything she’d worked for to run away with a man she barely knew. Hell, it was really nothing short of a miracle she’d stayed this long. Once this was over, of course she’d wish to leave, to clutch the remaining vestiges of her old life in hopes of regaining stability, no matter how unsatisfying it had been. And as much as we longed to refuse, to indelibly chain her to him so she’d never leave his side, he couldn’t bear to keep her captive.

“Yes,” he finally choked out. “If you want to go home, I’ll drive you to the airport myself.”

“Thank you.”

“But can I ask something?”

“Of course.”

“Is London truly home?”

Grey eyes widened as she considered his question. “I—I don’t know.” Sure, it was where she lived and had grown up, but when she thought about it, that’s all it was. Her tiny apartment merely a place to sleep and change clothes when not working. She had barely any friends, nor was she close to her parents. Really, if she returned, would anyone even notice she’d been gone?

“Then where is home?”

“I’m not sure, Altair, but I won’t be trapped.” Firmly, she took hold of his hand, fingers unconsciously linking with his. “I know you mean well, but look at it from my perspective; if I take a job at Creed International, stay in your house, I’ll be totally dependent on you. Tonight, your friends kept talking about keeping me, or how you’d never let me go. It made me realize that you’re powerful enough to make leaving you very difficult. I could run away, and there would always be someone to find me and bring me back against my will. That terrifies me. I hadn’t realized how under Robert’s thumb I was, but now that my eyes are open, I refuse to be at someone’s mercy again. Not even yours. A gilded cage is still a cage.”

Much to her surprise, his scarred lips twitched into a sympathetic smile. However, his golden eyes remained gloomy. “I understand. I vowed the same thing after Al Mualim. If you do not wish to stay, I will not hold you back, nor will I allow the others to go after you. It pains me to lose you, Maria, but I’ve always valued freedom; how could I deny you the very thing I craved for so long?”

“Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

His tone turned serious. “However, you must stay here until we can guarantee your safety. Even if we take de Sable out now, how do we know that the Koreans won’t retaliate? I’d never be able to forgive myself if anything happened to you.”

She gave a huff of annoyance but nodded in understanding. “As much as I hate to admit it, you’re right. For now, London is too dangerous, but you must promise that, once it’s safe, you won’t force me to stay. More importantly, you will never lie to me again. Not even by omission.”

“Anything you wish to know about me, ask, and I will answer truthfully. I swear on Kadar’s grave.” He stood, pulling her to her feet, smile strained. Tucking her hand into his elbow, he led her out of the library and back towards their rooms. “It’s late, and you need rest. Tomorrow I’ll have breakfast sent to your room so you won’t have to see the others.”

“That won’t be necessary. I’ll be at breakfast.”

“Are you sure?” He was honestly surprised. Despite the necessity of their actions, Altair wouldn’t have held it against her if she chose to avoid him and the rest of the brotherhood. Sure, Claudia would throw a fit, and Ezio would likely try to convince her to come down to the party, but he refused to force her into anything uncomfortable.

She clutched his arm a bit more securely, stifling a yawn. Now that the anxiety of their confrontation was over, exhaustion hit her like an avalanche. “I don’t condone what you’ve done in the name of revenge, but Robert is still a major threat. If you’re willing to trust me, it’s only fair I return the favor, both to you and your friends. Once he’s been dealt with, we can figure out what our next step is.”

“Our?”

A soft, sleepy smile touched her lips at the faint note of hope in his voice. “You’ve opened my eyes, Altair, and I’ve much to think on. If you’re willing to trust me, to show me the real Altair Ibn-La’Ahad, you might just be the sort of man I’d like to go on a date with.” Clay’s voice whispered through her mind, and she allowed herself to lean her head against her companion’s shoulder. “Just because I’ve had a lot going on doesn’t mean I shouldn’t put myself out there.”

Altair’s heart swelled, and his smile was as wide and brilliant as the Mediterranean. They walked the rest of the way in comfortable silence, finally stopping back at her room. Leaning down, he collected his discarded sketch pad and pencils before giving her a warm smile.

“Good night, Maria.”

She grabbed his hand. “Wait. You’ve told me quite often that you put more stock in actions than words.”

Eyebrow raising suspiciously, he said, “Yes?”

“I want to show you that I trust you, and I want you to be able to prove that you deserve that trust.”

“How?”

“Stay the night.” His jaw dropped, and she rushed to clarify, “That’s not an invitation for sex. I just want you to sleep beside me tonight.”

With a faint smile, he passed through the threshold, stripping off his shirt and folding it neatly on the bedside table with his art supplies. Next, he kicked off his shoes, then his trousers, until he was left in nothing but a tight pair of dark briefs.

Maria had just removed her robe when she noticed his near-naked state. She stared at him in shock, barely disguising her arousal. “I thought I told you no sex!”

Rolling his powerful shoulders, he smirked at her. “And there won’t be, but those clothes were not made for sleeping.”

“Then get a pair of pajamas.”

“Don’t you trust me?” he asked teasingly, licking his lips as he watched her nipples harden beneath her thin nightie. “Or is it your own urges you don’t trust? Perhaps you’re the one who’d take advantage of me.”

Growling, she shoved him before crawling into bed. “Just shut up and get over here.”

“As you wish.” Quietly, he lay beside her, one arm cautiously wrapping around her waist. When she didn’t resist he pulled her closer until her back was flush to his chest. Inhaling her sweet, comforting scent, he settled in, pleased when he felt her breaths even out only seconds after her head hit the pillow. She was probably exhausted, and it was more than enough to see her relax so easily in his presence again. With a kiss to her temple he allowed himself to relax as well, burying his face in her soft, fragrant hair.

As he drifted off to sleep, a smile lingered across his scarred lips. He was so used to a life of secrecy, but with Maria, it was becoming so much easier to let down his guard. For the first time in years, he felt at peace.

It was a feeling he didn’t want to let go of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might be another couple weeks before I add another chapter, since I'll be going to a convention for my birthday next weekend, but hopefully dressing as a sexy version of Ezio will give me some inspiration. As always, I love reading your comments; I try to respond to as many as I can, but some I can't for fear of giving spoilers, or there's just nothing more I can say, so please don't be offended if I ever don't. I ALWAYS read your comments, and nothing makes me happier than hearing what you think. Safety and peace, friends!


	13. Awakenings

The next morning, Maria woke to find herself unusually warm and comfortable. While the Egyptian cotton sheets and downy mattress had never been unpleasant, they’d never radiated heat. Rubbing her cheek against the pillow, she frowned. That was not the texture she expected. Smooth, but not as soft as usual. Lumpy, too, which was unexpected for such a luxurious bed. It was also rumbling, like an earthquake. No, her sleepy brain realized; it was chuckling. Someone was in bed with her, and she was using their firm torso as a pillow.

Heart stopping, her mind was filled with visions of the last time she’d awoken in such a position; it had been after the holiday party, when she’d slept with Robert. Panic clenching low in her gut, she dared not open her eyes as she lightly trailed her fingers down the expanse of skin and muscle beneath her. A sharp breath jostled her when her hand ghosted over their covered groin, and the bare skin of a thigh told her that he was wearing underwear, if nothing else. Sighing in relief, she opened her eyes, blushing when she recognized the tanned skin and powerful muscles before her. Swallowing, she realized that her hand had trailed back up from Altair’s thigh, and she was now palming his barely-covered, very erect cock.

“Well good morning,” his voice murmured above her. She turned her head to take in her bedmate; he was propped up against the headboard, smirking down at her. His short hair was slightly mussed from sleep, but his clear, alert eyes told her he’d been awake for a while. Dark stubble graced his jaw, and she found the look surprisingly sexy. There was something about seeing the normally composed and impeccable man disheveled that made her mouth go dry and heat pool between her legs.

Another thing she noticed was that he had the sketchbook from last night in one hand and a pencil in another.

She groaned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Please tell me you weren’t drawing me as I slept.”

“I thought you told me to never lie to you again?” he said with a smirk.

“Ugh, you’d better not show it to anyone.”

“Don’t worry; I’ll be keeping this one as part of my private collection.”

With a glare, she snatched at the sketchbook, but he held it just out of reach. Sitting up, she crawled up along his body in hopes of stealing it. However, he thwarted her plans by grasping her waist and flipping her over so she was pinned beneath him.

“You’re lucky all I did was draw you. It was tempting to wake you with a kiss, to pleasure you as you slept so you’d be aching for me the moment you opened your eyes.” His hard cock ground against her core and he nibbled lightly at her ear.

Maria let out a small moan. His rough stubble was slightly abrasive but felt oddly arousing against the sensitive skin of her neck. “I thought you didn’t take advantage of unconscious women?” she teased breathily. To be honest, she probably wouldn’t have minded waking up like that, but in its own way, bantering with him was just as satisfying.

“Good point. You’re much more fun when you’re awake, anyway.” Before she could retort, he kissed her deeply, slowly, as if savoring her. Calloused fingers ran through the soft waves of her hair, gently massaging her scalp. Heat pulsed through her as his teeth nipped her lips, tongue swiftly soothing the sting, making her toes curl and her heart race.

When he pulled away, he gave her a seductive grin. “Now that you’re awake, how about a little breakfast in bed?” A warm, rough hand caressed the smooth skin of her thigh. “You’re looking quite delectable this morning.”

Perhaps it was a testament to how much she’d gotten used to him, but she was proud that only a faint blush rose to her cheeks at his suggestion. “You’ve proven to be something of a messy eater, unfortunately. We should probably just go downstairs and join the others.”

He frowned. While it was a good sign that Maria was willing to eat with his friends after last night’s debacle, he really wanted to spend more time alone with her. “Maybe we could hit the parkour course first? I hate having breakfast without a morning workout, and I need to get my blood pumping before I can tolerate other people.”

A sudden, naughty thought entered her mind. “Oh? Does it need to be a workout, or are there other ways to get your blood pumping?”

Quick as a flash, Altair claimed her lips, kissing her thoroughly, tongue stroking along hers with expert skill, hips grinding even harder against the inviting center of her thighs. Over a minute later he pulled back, growling, “Don’t tease me, woman. Or do you need a reminder of which of us is in charge?”

She chuckled, only slightly out of breath, and trailed her fingers along his bare chest. “I thought you wanted to earn my trust? Shouldn’t you let me be the one on top?”

“Are you offering?”

She glanced at the clock. It was a little later than she’d like, but she doubted they’d be missed just yet. “Maybe. You’ll have to behave, though.” With a push, she coaxed him off her and onto his back. Straddling his hips, she rolled her hot core against his morning wood. “If you want me to believe you keep your promises, you’ll have to prove it.”

He groaned, bucking against her. “How?”

“Give me control.” Another roll of her hips and Altair’s eyes were squeezed shut in pleasure. “Think you can do that?”

Biting his lip, he nodded. If Maria wanted to take the lead for a bit, he’d let her. He lifted his hands to clutch her waist, but she grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the bed.

“I didn’t give you permission to touch, Altair,” she whispered in his ear playfully tip of her tongue stroking along the rim. “You only get to touch when I tell you.”

“Then what am I going to do, if I can’t touch?” he growled in frustration.

Gently, she ran her nails down his chest, smirking at how his pectorals twitched at the sensation. “Just lay back and enjoy. You liked the last time I was on top, didn’t you?” As she spoke she ground her aching, woefully covered core down onto his straining length.

“Yes!” he gasped, every instinct within him demanding that he roll them over and have his way with her. However, he knew Maria needed this, needed to know that she was his equal in all things, including the bedroom. Besides, seeing the usually prim and proper Englishwoman so sexually assertive, taking what she desired of him was a rare treat he intended to enjoy. Next time, though, he’d be back on top, and oh, how he’d enjoy showing her that when it came to the carnal acts, she should defer to his greater experience.

Grinning sexily at his response, she pulled off her flimsy pajama top, exposing her breasts to his hungry eyes. “Then quit whining. I promise I’ll be gentle.” Leaning forward, she braced her arms on either side of his head, bare breasts dangling inches away from his face. “You may kiss my chest, but keep your hands to yourself.”

Eagerly he did so, lips latching onto a rosy nipple and giving a sharp suck. However, he groaned when she suddenly pulled away.

“You’re not very good at listening, are you?” she asked, even as her pale cheeks went pink from pleasure.

“I listen fine,” he said, bucking his hips. She’d been irritatingly still against his cock, and he needed stimulation.

“Yet you made such an amateur mistake. I said ‘kiss,’ Altair, not ‘suck.’ Or do you need a refresher course in English?”

Gold eyes lit up mischievously. “Perhaps I do. Care to be my tutor?”

“I suppose I’ll have to. Now, let’s try again. Kiss my breasts, Altair.”

He did so, scarred lips giving just the slightest caress to the skin of her left mound. When she didn’t scold him, he repeated the action with the other one. Apparently pleased at his obedience, she rewarded him by grinding against his straining cock.

Maria’s breasts tingled from his gentle attention contrasted with the brush of rough stubble, and she granted him an approving smile. “Thrust your hips, Altair.”

Willingly he obeyed, shuddering at the delightful friction against his cock. Again, she rewarded him with a rock of her own. This was a game he could easily come to enjoy. Perhaps he could teach her Arabic in a similar manner?

“Very good. Let’s try something harder,” she murmured, licking her lips. “Touch my clit.”

Altair didn’t need to be asked twice, one hand delving beneath her tiny, silk shorts to rub circles around the swollen bud. A groan bubbled up in his throat when he felt how wet she already was. His Maria, a woman that appeared untouchable to the world, was practically dripping at his touch. He thought he couldn’t get any harder, but apparently his body had other ideas, as it felt like he might tear through the fabric of his briefs.

“Stop,” she said breathily.

It took more effort than he would have liked, but he halted his motion, looking at her pleadingly.

Despite her shallow breaths, she kept her face composed. “Touch me again.”

He’d barely made a full circle around her before she again commanded, “Stop.”

Groaning in frustration, he forced himself to obey. She knew he liked to see her in the throes of desire. She was deliberately withholding her own pleasure to test him. It had to be as torturous for her as it was him. Worst of all, she hadn’t moved her hips at all, leaving his aching cock merely cradled against her heat. What would it take to get satisfaction?

As she looked down at him, there was an odd glint in her eye, a single brow raised challengingly. After a moment of confusion, he finally realized what she wanted from him.

“Please, Maria, can I keep touching you?”

Teasingly she ran her nails down his chest, delicate fingers circling a taut nipple. “I don’t know, can you?” she mocked.

His teeth sank into his lip as he resisted to urge to snap at her. “ _May_ I keep touching your clit?”

She appeared to consider it for a moment, though how she managed to look so calm while his hand was buried in her tiny shorts he had no idea. After a few more agonizing seconds, she nodded. “You may.”

The pad of his fingers hurriedly stroked her pulsing core, finally enticing a moan from her lips and an instinctual jerk of her hips. White teeth flashed devilishly as he gave another firm rub. “How’s that, Maria?” he asked, accent caressing the syllables of her name as deliciously as he might her body.

She shivered, rewarding him with a grind against his throbbing member. “Adequate. You may continue until I cum,” she said imperiously.

“As you command,” he replied, rubbing furiously. The “adequate” comment stung his pride slightly, and he was determined to make her lose control in retaliation. Instantly she began rocking against his hand. Much to his surprise, though, she reached into his underwear and pulled out his throbbing member, stroking it in time to his touches.

The sight of her jerking him off as he played with her clit sent his hormones into overdrive. Now even more eager to continue, he teased her pearl with quick, firm touches, alternating between playful flicks and light rubs. From the way she moaned and shuddered above him, he was sure she was close, and he gasped as she pumped him harder. Growing impatient, he gave her clit a pinch and smirked as she came apart all over his hand with a broken moan.

Pulling his hand away, he gave her his most charming smolder. “May I lick your juices off my fingers, Maria?”

Gasping, she met his eyes, continuing to stroke his shaft. “You may.”

Lifting his fingers to his mouth, he sucked off her sticky juices, eyes never leaving hers. However, he couldn’t keep his cool for long and began frantically jerking his hips, orgasm overcoming him. He barely had the control to keep from shouting her name as his seed erupted all over her hand and chest. He felt like he could have cum again at the sight, and he felt a surge of possessive desire. He had the utmost respect for his woman, but what man wouldn’t be utterly turned on at the sight of his lover covered with his seed, flushed and panting, full breasts heaving with every breath. It was an image he burned into his memory, and he had every intention of recreating the look thoroughly, only next time on her knees before him.

The two lovers caught their breath, eyes still locked as they came down from their lustful highs.

Already feeling ready for another round, Altair gave her another smirk. “Shall we begin my next English lesson?”

The eager glint in Maria’s eyes echoed his own as she leaned down to barely brush her lips across his. “Since you’re such a quick study, I don’t see why not. Maybe I’ll let you put that talented tongue of yours to work next.”

There was a brief knock at the door before it opened, Claudia not even waiting for acknowledgment. “Maria, are you still asleep? It’s time for—”

Maria shrieked in surprise and covered her breasts with her arms. The Italian model froze, shocked at the sight of the two lovers. Luckily for her, Altair quickly flipped them over, hiding Maria’s bare chest with his body. Ordinarily, he knew Claudia wouldn’t care about seeing another woman half-naked, considering her line of work, but given the mess he’d made all over Maria, he doubted this was a sight she’d be comfortable with. He was just grateful that Maria’s body had concealed his barely softened member. That, he was sure, would have traumatized his baby cousin.

“Claudia, get out,” he snapped, heart racing from his orgasm and the anxiety of being walked in on.

Claudia immediately covered her eyes. “Sorry! I didn’t realize…” she trailed off awkwardly. Talking about Altair’s sex life was one thing, but witnessing it? A girl had her limits.

“Just get out and got downstairs. We’ll meet you for breakfast soon enough,” he growled as Maria buried her head in his chest, face a brilliant red with embarrassment.

Mutely, his cousin nodded and began backing out of the room, eyes still firmly covered. She had no intention of sticking around, even though she was pleased that her new friend was getting some action. At that thought, she couldn’t stop the mischievous smile that spread across her face. Despite the sheer awkwardness, there were so many ways to have fun with this. Stepping out the door she said loudly, “Can I get you guys anything? Some snacks? A condom?”

“Out!” the Arab bellowed, his sketchbook clattering against the door as she quickly shut it, though he could hear her cackling laughter as she dashed down the hallway.

The couple groaned, the mood sufficiently killed. Maria was too embarrassed to continue, and even with a stunning woman beneath him, Altair couldn’t bring himself to stay aroused after being walked on by his baby cousin. Wasn’t she the one complaining about walking in on Ezio yesterday? He was going to make Claudia pay for cock-blocking him. Sighing, he lightly kissed Maria’s soft pout. “I’ll leave you to get cleaned up, but this isn’t over.”

“Maybe we could finish things tonight?” she asked hesitantly, nervously biting her lip. God, where had all her confidence gone? Claudia’s sudden appearance had really knocked the wind out of her sails.

Sharp eyebrows shot up in pleasant surprise. Was she really suggesting what he thought she was? Giving her a more passionate, aggressive kiss, he growled. “Be at my room at three o’clock sharp. The party doesn’t start until six, so that gives me plenty of time to fuck you senseless before we need to get ready.”

“Are you sure we shouldn’t wait until tonight? I’d hate to be interrupted again,” she whispered against his lips.

“Everyone will be too busy by that point, and they’ll leave us be if they know what’s good for them. I want this, you want this, and I’m not waiting any longer.”

A small smirk graced her blushing face. “Oh? Personally, I think I’d rather do it after the party. I know you liked seeing me in that costume.” Pushing herself up onto her elbows, she nibbled along his unshaven jaw. “Think of it as your reward for bringing about Robert’s downfall.”

Inhaling deeply through his nose, he considered it, but only for a moment. “I’m not saying I won’t be in the mood after the party, but I need my head clear. You’ll be enough of a distraction in that outfit as it is. If I’m constantly fighting the urge to pull you into the nearest empty room and burying myself inside you, I might miss my chance to meet with King.”

“So you want to get me out of your system?”

Against his will, his mind went to Adha. How often had he allowed her to distract him from meetings and important events? Snuck away with her to the nearest secluded corner for a quick fuck when he should have been networking at a party? “I can’t risk being distracted. Neither of us can. But it’s far more than satisfying my libido.” Gently, he pressed his lips to her forehead. “Our first time shouldn’t be a quickie in a closet. I want to take my time with you, to ravish you in every position I can think of. So I expect you at my bedroom door at three.” Dark thoughts of delightful debauchery filled his head, and golden eyes glimmered in lustful anticipation. “I’ll strip you bare so I can taste every inch of your skin. Tease you until you’re soaking wet and begging for my cock. Then I’ll fuck you over and over again, on every surface of the room, until we’re both satisfied.”

Trying to keep her breathing even despite her arousal, she murmured, “That confident in your stamina?”

He grinned, nibbling her tender throat. “I’m that confident in how hard you get me.”

Before either of them could get back in the mood, there was another knock at the door. “ _Mia cara_ , hurry up and come to breakfast!” Ezio called. “ _E Altair, non puoi tenerla lì tutto il giorno. La povera ragazza ha bisogno della colazione se spera di tenere il passo con l'appetito sessuale!_ ”

Altair groaned and buried his head in her neck as Maria laughed, not understanding the Italian, but certain who it was directed at. “I’m going to kill them both,” he grumbled.

XXX

When they came down, Maria was grateful that none of the various killers in the room were looking at her with anything but sleepy politeness. Apparently, Claudia had not informed anyone but Ezio of that morning’s antics. Nor had Malik brought up her fears and suspicions towards them, though she noticed he wasn’t quite meeting her eye. Biting her lip, she took the empty spot next to him, pleased at his barely concealed look of surprise.

“Good morning, Malik,” she said, giving him a small smile. “Could you pass me the coffee?”

Understanding flashed across his face, and he returned her smile, grabbing the antique coffee pot. Altair had managed to put her mind at ease, and he had no reason to walk on eggshells around her. _The novice actually did something right,_ he mused. “Good morning, Maria. I trust you slept well?”

“It was uneasy at first, but I eventually settled in after a midnight stroll. The paintings in the library are stunning.”

“That they are, but don’t tell the artist I said that,” he whispered, giving her a wink.

Edward called over from the bar, “Anyone need some hair of the dog that bit ‘em? Plenty to go ‘round!”

Arno groaned, clutching his head. Apparently, the Frenchman had a few too many glasses of wine; Maria recalled he’d been on his third by the time she’d left the party. “Not so loud, Edward. And I’d never accept a drink from you.”

“ _Oui_ , you always add too much rum,” Aveline chimed in, sipping her coffee with a sleepy smile.

Edward looked offended. “‘Too much rum?’ Blasphemy! Connor, I don’t think you should marry her anymore.”

The large Native American blushed at the word “marry” but was luckily saved from Aveline’s inquisitive look by Claudia.

“I’d rather save any drunken shenanigans for this evening. And don’t try and argue, Ed; drunk is exactly what we’ll get if we let you tend bar.” She sighed wistfully. “I miss Desmond.”

Evie nodded. “Now that man could make a Bloody Mary like none other.”

“Desmond?” Maria asked curiously.

“My informant at Templar Industries,” Altair replied, helping himself to some eggs and toast.

“You mean Desmond Miles works for you?”

“You know him?” he asked, surprised.

“He was the one who told me about Robert’s plans. I thought he was just a whistle-blower.” She shook her head, laughing. “I should have known he was under your command. No wonder he told me.”

“I never ordered him to tell you about Robert. He did that on his own.”

She raised a suspicious eyebrow. “Did he, now?” Part of her mind scolded her for not believing him. Hadn’t they gone over trust and lying just last night?

The quirk of his lips was small but warm. “He’s the one who vouched for you when I doubted whether you could be trusted. Apparently, he thinks quite highly of you.”

Her guilt dissipated. Of course, they both had trust issues that they needed to work through. A single heart-to-heart wouldn’t fix that. But clearly, they were making progress. “And you took the word of a janitor?” she teased.

“He’s not just a janitor,” Ezio chimed in. “He’s part of a team of elite hackers and spies.”

“They’ve been infiltrating our enemies’ businesses for years,” added Malik. “They’ve acted as janitors, techs, archivists, bartenders—anything that gives them access to information without drawing attention.”

“And were you the ones who put this elite team together?” she asked. Desmond’s ability to translate Korean now made infinitely more sense. Mentally, she thanked her father; being nice to the janitor really was good advice.

Ezio chuckled. “I did. Connor and I met Desmond during our university days in the states. He was the bartender at a frat party we attended.”

Connor gave a small, reminiscing grin. “Ezio’s face when we first saw him was priceless. He made an utter fool of himself.”

“Was it love at first sight?” Maria joked.

“Goodness, no!” the Italian exclaimed. “But he has a more than passing resemblance to our man Altair.”

Maria’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really?”

“ _Si. La somiglianza era notevole._ I truly thought it was Altair tending the bar, until he opened his mouth. Curious, I decided to get to know him.”

“By which he means he badgered and borderline stalked him until Desmond let him take a blood sample so he could find out if he was a clone,” Conner chuckled. For some reason, it pleased Maria to see the large man amused; he seemed like a good man, if a bit hard to approach. Relaxing probably did not come easily to him.

Shaking his head, Altair suppressed a smile. “He wasn’t, but we are related. Apparently, my grandfather had a mistress in the states. They produced a son, William, who in turn had Desmond. My father knew about them, but never told me.”

“Why not?”

“He probably wasn’t too fond of the idea that his father cheated on his mother and wanted to distance himself from the affair. Once we started our mission, Ezio convinced Desmond and his friends to help us. He’s the one who got us the video of the meeting and translated it.”

Nodding, she replied, “And he’s the one who warned me about Robert. I suppose I owe him more than a fruit basket for that.”

“You can thank him in person once this is over. I promised him a position at Creed International once he was done in London. Translators are always needed in this company.”

“Awww! I wanted him to be one of my models,” Claudia groused. “Do you know how many products I could sell with a face like his?”

“Isn’t he your cousin?” Evie asked, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“Not by blood!” she insisted. “I’m related to Altair on his mother’s side. Desmond is related on his father’s side.”

“Yet he looks just like your blood-related cousin,” Arno said, hangover apparently more manageable now that he’d gotten some food in him.

“That’s the point! Altair won’t be known as one of the world’s most eligible bachelors after tonight; once word gets out that he’s got a cousin that looks just like him, girls will be swarming over Desmond. Any product he models will sell like hotcakes! I get all the publicity without any of the ickiness of seeing my cousin naked.”

Despite the lingering embarrassment of being inadvertently reminded of that morning’s incident, Maria had to admit it wasn’t a bad idea. Claudia was a shrewder businesswoman than she’d given her credit for.

“It horrifies me how much sense you’re making right now,” Malik said.

She gave him a devilish smile, “You know, I wouldn’t need Desmond if—”

“Not. Happening,” he growled.

Aveline laughed before pulling something out of her purse. “That reminds me, I have that copy of _Slave to the Sultan’s Lust_ that I borrowed, Claudia.”

The Italian model’s eyes lit up while Malik groaned. “Give it here! Maria needs to read it!”

“No she doesn’t!” both Malik and Altair grumbled. However, their complaints fell on deaf ears as Maria eagerly took the dog-eared paperback.

“Goodness, this book has been well-loved,” she said, chuckling at the cover. There was Malik, draped in finery befitting a royal, amorously embracing an attractive but mousy-looking woman. The high collar of her prim, turn-of-the-century suit was unbuttoned so her throat was exposed, her head thrown back in pleasure as Malik kissed her neck. For his part, he seemed fixated on sending her into a hedonistic tailspin, his sole arm hooking a shapely leg over his hip. Maria had to admire the skills of the photographer; the way the scene was set and the photo was taken, it was impossible to tell that Malik was missing his left arm. She gave him a teasing grin. “So, is this how you win over women?”

His annoyed frown thankfully didn’t hold much heat. “Yes, Maria, I dress up as a sultan and seduce them. Works every time.”

Aveline chuckled. “I confess, it might work on me. Those sex scenes were quite intense. I’m a little curious as to how you’d measure up,” she said with a wink.

Connor gave her such a look of betrayal that the New Orleans beauty immediately pulled him in for a kiss. “Don’t worry, _mon nounours_ ; you’re still my favorite fantasy.”

Arno rolled his eyes. “Get a room,” he grumbled.

“Aye, go get a room and make me some great-grandbabies to spoil!” called Edward, carrying over a glass that was most likely more than half-rum.

“Didn’t you just disapprove of her?” asked Evie.

“Changed my mind. It was hard enough for her to get Connor to loosen up this much; I separate them, I’ll be dead by the time he finds a wife to knock up.”

Enjoying the relaxed atmosphere at the table and temporary distraction, Maria snuck a peek at one of the passages.

_Tazim eagerly suckled Elizabeth’s breast, her wanton cries music to his ears. The battle had been hard-won, but at last, the woman was his. Weeks of calculated teasing and careful touching had finally lured her to his bed. He wasn’t used to being refused, and the chase had been both frustrating and unspeakably arousing. The tiger had finally captured his prey, and he intended to devour her slowly._

_Tied to the bed with silk scarves and wearing nothing but a flimsy pair of undergarments, she was a vision like none other. Long, flawless legs were spread while her delicate wrists rested above her head, allowing the sultan an unhindered view of her perfect body. A crimson flush spread from the tips of her ears to the top of her succulent breasts. Nipples the color of desert roses pebbled delightfully under his touch. Teasingly, he rolled his hard cock against the apex of her thighs, groaning a little when she instinctively bucked against him. He’d had the most experienced courtesans from exotic lands, yet somehow this shy little virgin nearly unhinged him with the lust she inspired._

_“Tazim!” she cried out as he lightly bit a delicate nipple. Instinctively she arched her back, offering him more of her sweet flesh. He happily accepted, mouth trailing over to her other breast to give it equal attention._

_“I’ve waited for this moment for too long,” he said, pulling away from her breasts and slowly making his way down her flat belly. When he reached her womanly center, he inhaled deeply. She smelled heady, like the desert after a hard rain, fresh and welcoming. Her panties were soaked through from his earlier attentions. With a smirk, he ran his tongue over her covered slit, relishing her choked gasp. No man had touched her, and Tazim was determined that no other ever would._

_“Tazim, don’t, it’s a sin!” she whimpered as he continued to stroke her wet core._

_Delighting in the barely-restrained desire in her voice, he massaged her secret pearl with the tip of his tongue. “A sin? You are my wife, and this is our marriage bed. Nothing we do here is a sin. And I am driven by need. You denied me our wedding night. I have forsaken my harem. I have not even touched myself this past fortnight. You will be mine, Elizabeth, utterly and completely.”_

_Rough, battle-worn hands ripped off her panties, making her gasp. Before she could protest further, he returned his tongue to her dripping slit, moaning at the heavenly taste of her._

_His cock strained against the fabric of his pants, practically begging for him to abandon control and sink into her. But he forced himself to wait. A woman like this was meant to be savored. Elizabeth had been driving him mad, and he had every intention of returning to favor ten-fold._

“I’m planning on re-releasing it next year. It’s insanely popular on eBay, and I’m sure the world is clamoring for fresh copies,” Claudia said, laughing at the dusting of pink that had found its way to Maria’s cheeks.

“It’s not bad,” she murmured, setting the book aside. “A little over the top, but it paints a vivid picture.”

Evie chimed in, “Maybe you should make it into an audiobook. But who should read it?”

Maria gave Malik a wicked grin. “I think I have an ideal candidate.”

“You know, I used to like you,” Malik growled.

“And you still like me. Besides, it’s a compliment,” she said, playfully stroking his arm. She could feel Altair’s glare, but paid it no mind. Malik always acted like he was the smartest person in the room, the only sane man in a sea of madness. It was fun wipe the smug grin off his face once in a while.

“Indeed. It means you have a sexy voice,” cooed Aveline, fluttering her eyelashes dramatically.

“One that could easily capture a woman’s imagination and bring her to her knees,” added Evie with a smirk.

At that moment, Jacob sauntered in, a pair of handsome men at his heels. “Seems I’m just in time to rescue poor Malik,” he chuckled. “Look who just arrived.”

“Claudia, my love!” one of the men called. He was tall, lean, and tan, with thick, curly brown hair kept out of his eyes by a yellow and teal bandana. His beard was full but short and neatly trimmed, and his smile was absolutely heart-stopping. Maria vaguely identified him as Yusuf Tazim, a Turkish model and athlete.

“Yusuf!” Claudia immediately leapt out of her seat to embrace him, planting a particularly amorous kiss on his lips.

The other man, even darker than the first, smiled at the couple before approaching the table. Impeccably dressed in a three-piece suit, his luxurious black hair and proud nose gave him the look of royalty, but his gentle smile matched his warm brown eyes. Maria recognized him as Henry Green, Evie’s husband, famous author, and a renowned expert on exotic plants and cultural curiosities. She’d attended one of his lectures during her time at University, her heart still longing for the chance to travel to foreign countries and discover the world.

_Do these people know even a single ugly person?_ Maria wondered.

Evie stood up and kissed her husband, and though she was far more reserved with her embrace, it reflected no less love. “Henry. How was India?”

He gave her an adoring smile before kissing her. When they pulled apart, he replied, “Beautiful as always. The villa’s gardens are lush and vibrant, but still nothing compared to your eyes.”

“Ew,” Ezio said, wrinkling his nose at Claudia and Yusuf’s make-out session.

“I second that, mate,” Jacob agreed, giving an exaggerated gag at his own sister’s reunion.

Meanwhile, Altair silently thanked Jacob for saving Malik. He knew Maria was just having fun, and it was good to see his old friend get embarrassed, but that didn’t stop his instinctual jealousy from flaring up. What made him almost step in, however, was his knowledge of why Malik was so hesitant to involve himself with Claudia’s schemes. It was something he’d confessed only once, and refused to speak of since. It was the reason that, despite his friend’s sour nature and hard shell, Altair found himself feeling rather protective.

Luckily, Yusuf and Henry’s arrival seemed to have derailed the women’s teasing. With a smile, Henry extended his hand to Maria. “It appears we have a new face in the crowd. Henry Green, at your service.”

Respectfully standing, Maria took the offered hand. “Maria Thorpe, at yours. I attended one of your lectures in London a few years back. You were talking about Indian weapons throughout history.”

Eyebrows shooting up in surprise, his smile widened. “I remember that lecture! Was it you that volunteered for my kukri demonstration?”

“Indeed I was. My friends were horrified, but I thought it was quite fun.”

“I admit, there are few people, man or woman, who would consent to let a stranger hold a blade to their throat. You didn’t even flinch. Most impressive.”

Altair gave her a startled look, and she chuckled. “He simply needed someone to come up on stage so he could do a mock demonstration. I was in no danger.”

“Uh oh, Greenie,” said Jacob, gulping down his sister’s tea. “You best not have hurt our illustrious leader’s woman. He gets mad about stuff like that.”

Henry’s smile turned placating as he faced the glaring Arab. “The blade was unsharpened, my friend. You know I would never risk so much as nicking an innocent bystander.”

“That’s the only thing saving your life,” he growled, coming over to wrap his arm around Maria’s waist and tugging her away from the polite Indian.

Incensed, Maria smacked Altair’s chest. “For a man who wants me to trust his friends, you’re certainly doing a piss-poor job doing the same.”

“Yes, Altair, continue to imply my husband would dare harm an innocent,” Evie snapped, vivid eyes narrowed and back tense.

He frowned, slightly ashamed. They were right. Of all of them, Henry was probably the most harmless. And he really should show his friends more trust he if wanted Maria to remain at his side. “I apologize, Henry,” he said. “It was foolish of me to think you’d dare put anyone in danger. I should have more faith in you.”

The entire room seemed shocked. Even Yusuf and Claudia had ceased making out to stare at the handsome billionaire. While their leader had been wrong before, and would typically do something to make amends, none except Malik, Ezio, and Claudia had ever heard the man verbally apologize.

Henry quickly recovered from his surprise, giving a shrug and a smile. “It’s all right, my friend. You were merely worried about the woman you love. I can easily understand that,” he said, giving Evie an adoring smile, which she returned. “But I do not think you have much to fear. Even when the blade is dull, most people who have it at their throat tend to be wary. The look in Miss Thorpe’s eyes spoke of bravery and strength unlike anything I’d ever seen outside our group. Had she been in real danger, I have no doubt she would have wrenched the kukri from my hand and run me through.”

Altair couldn’t suppress the small laugh that rose from his chest. “She would at that.” He gave the table a nod. “Breakfast is nearly over, but please, sit and relax. You must be exhausted from your flight, and I’m sure you and Evie would like to spend some time together. Yusuf!” he said, capturing the young Turk’s attention.

“Yes?” he replied, reluctantly pulling away from Claudia. Ezio had reluctantly given his blessing for him to date the beautiful model only a month ago, but he knew well the Arab’s deadly temperament and protective tendencies. Still, he did his best to hide any trepidation.

“After you’ve eaten, I want to go over the party list with you and Ezio. I want a rundown of everyone invited and their connections. Your information network is more extensive than mine, so I want to be sure we don’t have anyone connected to de Sable or any of his associates in our midst.”

Yusuf chuckled. A smart plan, but he wasn’t quite convinced that it wasn’t simply his way of keeping him away from Claudia for a few hours. Or making sure he didn’t embarrass himself by not knowing who someone was. “Of course. I’ve already put together a dossier of everyone who will be there, so it should be simple enough.”

“Good. In the meantime, Ezio, Malik, and Edward, I want you in my office; we need to go over the security plans for tonight with Rauf. Has Niccolo arrived?”

“Si, he called me not an hour ago. He should already be meeting with Rauf.”

“Then the rest of you can relax and prepare for tonight. Talking to Richard King may seem like an easy task, but I won’t risk anything going wrong. Robert de Sable isn’t stupid, and if he’s gotten so much as a whiff of what we’re doing, I wouldn’t put it past him to organize some sort of attack. So stay vigilant.”

Despite the heavy tone, Maria found herself admiring Altair’s command of the room. It appeared they really did look to him as their leader. 

Before he left, Altair turned and gave her a brief kiss on the cheek. She was almost disappointed at how chaste it was until he spoke, words dark and husky. “Remember, three o’clock. My room. Don’t be late,” he whispered, hot breath caressing her ear, sending shivers down her spine. “You’ve got a date with my cock.”

XXX

Despite Evie, Claudia, and Aveline begging her to join them for “book club,” Maria declined, instead opting to visit the stables. Of course, they’d offered to join her, but she needed some time alone, so she promised to join them for lunch in a few hours. As fun as the trio of ladies were, she suspected a trap. Not of the malicious kind, of course, but she was sure that Claudia told the other women about that morning, or at least would once they were alone. And if Maria was right, they’d spend the next few hours badgering her for details and giving her advice. Which honestly wasn’t that daunting, but she still had several hours before she was to meet up with Altair, and she didn’t need to get all hot and bothered so when there was still several hours before the main event.

Breathing in the relaxing scent of horse, she smiled. No matter what country she was in, a stable still felt like home. She glanced outside and noticed Lamia galloping about with a few other horses she’d only briefly seen last time. An enormous chestnut horse munched on some hay, while an especially handsome Mustang sprinted about, it’s red, brown, and white coat vivid against the solid colors of the rest of the herd.

The sound of hooves on tile drew her attention back inside. Faris stood in the aisle being brushed by one of the stable hands. His black coat glistened under the lights, and his gorgeous mane and tail fell in thick, magnificent waves. Still, he didn’t seem entirely happy, shifting in place and flicking his tail at the poor stable boy. Apparently, Faris objected to being attended to by a mere servant. Maria wondered if Altair was usually the one to brush and exercise him every day. He’d said that his horses could be temperamental, and Faris in wouldn’t allow anyone but him to ride. Perhaps he was anxious because Altair hadn’t had as much time to take care of him, being too busy with her and his plans. She suddenly felt a little guilty; he’d spent quite a lot of his time with her. Didn’t he have a company to run? Contracts to sign, requests to approve? Had she been distracting him from his duties?

The stallion noticed her and whinnied eagerly as she approached, ceasing his anxious stamping. Surprised at the horse’s reaction, the stable hand mutely offered her the currycomb. Word of the woman who had earned the affections of both the master of the house and his prized steed had spread through the mansion like wildfire, and though they often kept out of sight, the house staff had been eagerly taking bets on how long it would take before she became Master Altair’s wife. In one week, they’d observed their master go above and beyond trying to impress her. The maids whispered how he’d refused to leave her side when she’d fainted from heat stroke. The kitchen talked about the romantic picnic he’d requested for their evening ride. And the whole stable had been in shock when Faris had allowed her to approach him so quickly, and how they’d ridden in on his back together. Rauf had particularly enjoyed regaling the staff with the story of how their master had fretted over her after Malik had hit her during a fencing match, but she had not cared about the injury in the slightest. Quietly and unanimously, the servants approved of Maria Thorpe, as they enjoyed seeing this new side to their usually withdrawn master.

She blinked, nonplussed, before hesitantly taking it and began brushing along Faris’ muscular neck. He seemed immediately more relaxed, even leaning slightly into her long, firm strokes. Apparently, he approved of her technique, nuzzling her shoulder gently as she continued to remove the morning’s dust.

“You act all proud and tough, but you’re secretly a big softy, aren’t you?” she asked quietly. When he nickered softly in response, she laughed. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell. It’ll be our little secret.”

“Who’s a good horse?” she heard behind her. “You are!”

Surprised, Maria turned to find Jacob approaching, Connor following close behind. With a snort and a disdainful flick of his tail, Faris flounced off outside, completely ignoring the Englishman.

“Guess he still doesn’t like you,” Connor said, face serious but laughter in his eyes.

Jacob sulked. “I swear, he’s actually Altair in horse form. The other horses like me just fine.”

“I suppose someone has to,” he replied.

“Hey!”

Maria awkwardly cleared her throat. “Gentlemen.” She like Connor, and Jacob, while rather uncouth, didn’t seem the bad sort, but it came to her that this was the first time she’d been alone with any of the killers that Altair had allied himself with. She wasn’t scared; it was unlikely they meant her any harm. But she wasn’t quite sure where she stood with these men, and that caused her to withdraw a bit.

Jacob turned to the Englishwoman. “Ah! Sorry ‘bout that, Maria. Didn’t mean to scare him off.”

She shrugged, working to hide her discomfort. “It’s all right. I was thinking of leaving, anyway.”

“What’s the rush?” he asked, slinging his arm around her shoulder and leading her towards the outdoor ring. “Have you met Connor’s horse? It’s got an unpronounceable name, but he’s a real beauty.”

Flanking her other side, Connor rolled his eyes. “It’s not unpronounceable.”

The energetic mustang, seeing the trio approach, trotted over to Connor, sniffing him eagerly. With a tiny smile, he reached into his pocket and presented a carrot, which the horse snatched out of his hand. “This is Kanen'tó:kon. He’s named after an old friend of mine that passed away.”

Maria nodded in understanding, though she silently agreed with Jacob’s assessment of the name; she wasn’t even going to try to pronounce it for fear of mangling it and offending the large man.

Connor gestured to the beautiful chestnut mare she’d seen through the window. “That one there is Bonnie Anne. Altair’s holding on to her for Grandfather so his girlfriend, Mary, doesn’t find out about her. She’s going to be an anniversary gift.”

Pleasantly surprised at the boisterous Welshman’s lovely gift, she grinned. “She’s a lucky woman.”

“And he’s a lucky man, if Ed’s singing of her praises at the drop of a hat is to be believed,” Jacob chimed in.

Smile growing slightly wider, Connor agreed. “I like Mary. She helps keep Grandfather in line, and she makes him happy. She’s good people.”

Absently, Maria said, “We could all use more good people in our lives. There are too many toxic people about.”

“Having even one good person in your life can make all the difference. It can help you shake off the influence of toxic ones,” Jacob said, patting the nose of Kanen'tó:kon and slipping him another carrot. Connor pretended not to notice the Londoner’s blatant spoiling of his horse.

“I suppose so,” Maria replied. Jealous of all the attention the other horse was getting, Lamia came up to the fence and immediately butted her nose against Maria’s hand, prompting her to laugh. Jacob handed her an apple, which she happily fed the beautiful horse. She looked at Jacob curiously. “If you don’t mind me asking, you sound like you’ve got some experience with the subject.”

He shrugged, but she could see he was uncomfortable beneath the nonchalant cockiness. “There were two; Pearl and Roth. Pearl, I’d made a business arrangement with. Thought I was giving Evie a hand, plus she claimed to be an enemy of Crawford Starrick. Turns out she was his cousin, but I didn’t find out until she’d already wrapped me around her little finger and got me to do some of her dirty work. Evie ended up having to clean up the mess. Roth was more…personal.”

When he didn’t elaborate, Maria decided to change the subject. “What are you dressing as for tonight’s party?”

Seemingly grateful for the new topic, he grinned. “I’ll be a handsome Steampunk gentleman, with all the bells and whistles. Even got a gauntlet with a grappling hook!”

“Why?”

“Why not? Who wouldn’t want a grappling hook?”

She turned to Connor, who was murmuring to Lamia something in a language she didn’t understand. The horse seemed to enjoy the soothing sound of his deep voice, though, nibbling his shoulder affectionately. “What about you?”

“Aveline convinced me to dress as a Colonial navy captain. She said it gives her an excuse to dress me up in a fancy blue coat.”

Chuckling, she gave Lamia one last affectionate pat on the neck. “Speaking of, I should probably return to the house. She and the others wanted to have lunch and ‘book club’ with me, and I’d best indulge them if I want to keep them from disturbing me later.”

Mouth twisting in uncomfortable understanding, Connor nodded. “Good luck with that. The girls can get…intense.”

“That they can. Even Evie, and she’s supposed to be the sensible one. But I’d best toddle off, too. I’ve got a prior engagement to get to myself.” Giving Maria an exaggerating bow, he winked at her. “I promise not to bloody up your boyfriend too much.”

At her shocked and questioning look, Connor said dryly, “He and Altair spar when they get together. It keeps them from getting into actual fights. Mostly.”

“I see,” she said, furrowing her brow.

Jacob winked at her. “Don’t give me that look. You’ll be thanking me later.”

XXX

Meanwhile, Altair was in his office with Ezio, Malik, Rauf, Edward, and Niccolo going over the plans for the party.

“I want armed security both inside and surrounding the mansion,” he said, inspecting the blueprints of his home. “We’ve got too many important people attending, so I can’t allow anything to happen.”

“Agreed. Better safe than sorry,” said Rauf, giving Niccolo a sideways glare. He was exhausted from the past few nights, having spent most of his time meticulously planning out guard schedules, patrol routes, and conferring with the Italian which guards should protect the guests inside versus keep watch outside. They’d also had many an argument over how much weaponry they should be allowed to carry. Rauf was in favor of as many as they could manage, while Niccolo argued that such a thing would panic guests.

“Subtlety is vital in these sorts of matters; if the house looks like a fortress, the guests will be suspicious and nervous,” Niccolo said sourly.

Ezio added, “This is supposed to be a party, after all. We don’t need guests asking uncomfortable questions.”

Holding up his hands placatingly, Altair said, “I want the guards armed, but not obviously. Nothing they can’t hide under their clothes. A few of Rauf’s men will be inside the party dressed in costumes which will allow some leeway with the weapons, but overall, we can’t make it look like we’re expecting an all-out assault.”

“The guests’ safety is key. All the bartenders are people we’ve worked with before; no spiked drinks, willing to step in if anyone, man or woman, looks like they’re being taken advantage of, and non-disclosure clauses so they won’t accidentally leak sensitive information to the press.” The Italian playboy shook his head, smiling. “If Desmond’s taught me anything, it’s that bartenders and janitors hear more than you suspect.”

Edward nodded. “We should also have security check all cars for bombs, stowaways, and other nastiness they might be trying to smuggle in. And anyone whose costume has a weapon needs to have it inspected and approved at the door. The last thing we need is an assassin dressed as a pirate bringing in a real sword and trying to kill ya.”

“Agreed. No one but us is to have a sharpened blade. I’m assuming your costumes all have weapons?”

He smirked. “I’ll be an assassin dressed as a pirate. You tell me.”

Ezio cocked an eyebrow. “I’m surprised you won’t be going as that comic-book character you like so much. The magician?”

“The business cards didn’t come in on time, so I’m saving that for Halloween. Besides, I thought we were looking for excuses to be armed? Don’t get to carry a sword and gun around as an exorcist, demonologist, and master of the dark arts.”

Rolling his eyes, Malik said, “Just don’t flaunt them. If someone notices your blades are real, we’ll have to have security confiscate them to avoid arousing suspicion. So, keep it in your pants.”

“Words you say all too often to Al, eh Malik?” he teased.

The sour Arab actually chuckled. “If the Novice doesn’t fuck things up, I might have to say it less.”

“I can assure you, my libido won’t be sated just because I’m taken,” Altair said, scar twisting with his smirk. “I intend to enjoy my relationship with Maria _thoroughly_.”

“Yes, but knowing Maria, she’ll be the one telling you to keep it in your pants. I’ll get to save my breath.”

Rauf and Edward let out booming laughs, and even Niccolo had to chuckle at Altair’s irritated glare.

XXX

Back in England, Desmond lay in the trunk of a car, bound, gagged, and exhausted. This was not what he’d been expecting when he’d gone into de Sable’s office to clean out Maria’s desk.

When he’d seen the state of the office, he’d felt a surge of pride at a job well done at fucking up the Frenchman’s plans. He was also grateful the former assistant had taken his warnings to heart and had gotten the fuck out of dodge before the shit hit the fan. If she was still in Dubai when he got down there, he’d have to make her a congratulatory drink.

The pride didn’t stick around long, though. Upon inspection of the overturned desk, he’d realized that the hidden microphone was gone. Which meant someone had found it.

Deciding it was time to follow Maria’s example and get the fuck out of there, he’d made his way down to the empty parking garage as fast as he could without looking suspicious. Only the security team and the janitors were around that late, but he couldn’t risk drawing attention.

Once in the safety of the garage, he pulled out his phone. He got shit reception in the dark, concrete corridors, but he needed to call Rebecca. He needed her to track down the microphone. All the spying equipment Leo had given them, from the satellites to the tiny receivers, had some sort of GPS system installed so they could monitor their location and track moving targets. If they could find it, he could retrieve it before it was too late, and the brotherhood wouldn’t be compromised. He prayed to a god he didn’t believe in that it was just another janitor that had found it. Because if de Sable had it, they were fucked.

Just as he’d been dialing Rebecca’s number, the wind had been knocked out of him by a blow from behind. Before he could even react, a large, meaty fist had smashed into his face, bloodying his nose. For two minutes, all he’d been able to do was curl up into a ball while several feet kicked him in his ribs and spine before two pairs of hands hauled him up, bound his hands and feet with zip ties, and tossed him into the trunk of a car.

That had been several hours ago, and Desmond had drifted in and out of consciousness. Shaking his head, he took stock of his injuries. Nothing felt broken, but his ribs hurt like a bitch. The boots of the assholes that had kicked him were fucking heavy, too, so he could guarantee some nasty bruises were forming. His nose had stopped bleeding, but the blood had dried all over his face and that, mixed with the close quarters and heat of the trunk, was making breathing pretty difficult.

He felt the car stop, and after a few moments, the trunk was unlocked. The bright sunlight was blinding after the darkness from the past few hours. "Thanks for that," he muttered sarcastically. "It was great, being shoved in the trunk, bouncin' around. Loved it..."

His tangent trailed off as his eyes finally adjusted. They definitely weren’t in London anymore, having stopped at what looked to be a small, private airport in the middle of nowhere. Robert de Sable was standing above him, bald head blocking out the blazing June sun, but the sneer on his face made his blood run cold.

“Hello, Mr. Miles,” he said, eyes glittering maliciously. He held up the tiny microphone. “I believe this is yours.”

Coughing, Desmond tried to glare at him defiantly. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t be an idiot, Mr. Miles, though I’m sure that must be very hard for a man of your background. I know you’re connected to Altair Ibn-La’Ahad. You’re practically his twin. Now, I’m only going to give you one chance to come clean.” Leaning forward, he snarled, “What does he know?”

By way of answering, Desmond spat in de Sable’s face. Infuriated, he grabbed Desmond’s head and slammed it back into the floor of the trunk. Desmond saw stars, and had to fight hard to remain conscious. Unfortunately, that meant he wasn’t in any condition to struggle as a couple muscular Korean soldiers hauled him out of the trunk and began dragging him towards a small, private jet.

Wiping the spit off his face with a handkerchief, Robert casually walked alongside the helpless man. “I do hope you understand your actions call for your immediate termination. But the good news is, I have a better use for you. We just need to run one last errand, and then we’ll be on our way to your new home.”

“Need to stop at the supermarket to pick up milk and eggs?” he wheezed.

“Need to drop by a party. The host took something that belongs to me, and I’d very much like her back before we leave for to North Korea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Desmond can't catch a break, can he?
> 
> Anyone who knows the comic book character I'm referencing when I talk about Edward's costume gets brownie points. Long story short, he'd the reason I even got into Assassin's Creed, as they're voiced by the same actor. Also, just saying this now, no, Connor will be wearing his captain's uniform, not his native clothes, because that's his culture, not a costume.
> 
> You all know what's coming in the next chapter, and I'll try not to keep you waiting too long, but I want to get the sexytimes perfect, so be patient. I promise it will be worth waiting for.


	14. How Much Can You Handle?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. I had to travel for work last week, so that really cut into my writing time, but I assure you, I made it worth your while. Hell, I almost named this chapter "Finally," lol

“Book Club,” as it turned out, was basically Claudia and Yusuf grilling the girls about their sex lives in hopes of getting inspiration for new books. Apparently, while she didn’t write them herself, the Italian beauty was more than happy to help her authors conduct “research” for new novels. Currently they were interrogating Aveline about what Connor was like in bed, much to Maria’s dueling relief and embarrassment.

“You can’t tell me Connor’s anything but missionary style and gentle lovemaking. The man only gets aggressive when injustice is about,” Yusuf said, sprawled on the chaise lounge with Claudia cradled against him. With Altair and Ezio otherwise occupied, he wasn’t worried about teasingly running his fingers along her ribs. Ezio was a friend, but he respected him enough to not touch his baby sister too much in front of him, that morning’s make-out session notwithstanding. And Altair he held a healthy amount of fear of, preventing his desire for his Italian lover to get out of hand. But he’d been away from Claudia for over a month, so that didn’t mean he wouldn’t take advantage where he could.

“Well, I think he’s got a hidden wild side that Avvy’s not telling us about,” replied Claudia, wiggling against him. “He’s dating Aveline de Grandpre for God’s sake! If he isn’t secretly some sort of sex fiend, then she’d be walking around far less cheerful. And there was that time they came out of the theater and the paparazzi caught a glimpse of her without her panties.”

“We’d just eliminated a target,” Aveline cut in. “We needed an alibi, and getting rid of my underwear made it look like we’d been busy with an illicit rendezvous. We didn’t actually have sex.”

“A relationship isn’t purely about sex, anyway,” Maria chided. “He probably fulfills her in other ways.”

“I know that!” Claudia defended. “But this is a woman who can seduce a target in her dressing room and be back on stage before intermission’s done. He knew that going in, and if he wasn’t capable of pleasing her, they’d have amicably gone their separate ways by now.”

Evie rolled her eyes. “Aveline, will you please just answer the question before Claudia starts coming up with wild theories about your bedroom activities? With the way her imagination works, I’m surprised she’s not the one writing these books.”

Maria gave the American a supportive smile. “If you don’t want to tell them, then it’s none of their business.” However, despite herself, she was curious. Connor was such a soft-spoken, deceivingly gentle man. It was hard for her to picture him as anything but tender lovemaking and cuddling. At the same time, Aveline had seemed just as sexually confident as Claudia. It was a combination she wouldn’t have expected.

Looking unusually bashful, Aveline worried her lip. “Connor is a very private person. I don’t think he’d be comfortable with me telling you what the kinkiest thing we’ve done is.” Despite her words, there was an eagerness in her eyes, like she had some juicy information that she was desperate to share.

Claudia smiled comfortingly. “You know it won’t change our opinion of him, _tesoro_. Connor will always be our favorite teddy bear whom we all trust and adore. He’s the kind of man who, if I were to walk in front of him naked, would offer me his shirt and not even consider sneaking a peek.”

“We just want to make sure that you’re happy,” said Yusuf. “I’ve met some of your old partners, and they always went on about your healthy appetite for sex. Connor just seems so…shy that we wanted to know if there was anything you needed us to talk to him about.”

“I have more than a few books he could use as a reference if you felt he needed to spice things up,” she added.

Evie chuckled. “He’s a good man, and we’re happy for you. But I do admit, I’m wondering how he keeps you satisfied. And if I should buy you batteries for your birthday.”

“Are you saying you don’t think he’s good in bed?” Aveline asked defensively.

“I’m saying I know someone who can hook you up with a good vibrator,” Evie teased while Claudia burst out laughing.

“Fine, you want to know what he’s like in bed?” Aveline said, sounding somewhere between exasperated and excited. “Some nights, he’s so tender it’s torture. Other nights, he’ll lay back and let me do whatever I want with him, from tying him to the bed and riding him to obeying my every command.” A sensual grin spread across her lips. “And then there are nights, especially after a successful mission or a party where too many men have been eyeing me up, he’s practically an animal, willing to throw me against the wall and fuck me so hard I can barely walk the next day.”

Yusuf, Maria, and Evie’s jaws dropped while Claudia cried out, “Way to go Connor!”

“I didn’t think the boy had it in him,” Yusuf said, a proud grin spreading across his face.

“He most certainly does. And if I find out that any of you have told him that I talked about our sex life, I’ll hunt each and every one of you down and feed you to the gators.”

“Fair enough,” said Evie once she picked her jaw off the ground.

“So what about you?” Yusuf asked, turning to Maria. “Claudia tells me that you’re with Altair, but that you haven’t done the deed yet. Need some advice to seduce him?”

“Oh, she doesn’t need help with that,” said Claudia. “I think she’s got things well _in hand_.”

Maria glared at her. “Claudia, I swear to God—”

“Does this have anything to do why you came down to breakfast blushing and looking like the cat ate the canary?” Aveline asked the Italian, in a better mood now that she’d successfully defended her boyfriend’s prowess.

“ _Assolutamente_. Let’s just say I found the two of them in a rather compromising position this morning.”

Frustrated and embarrassed, Maria buried her face in her hands. She felt Evie pat her shoulder consolingly. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Once Altair’s got his sights set on something he wants, he’s relentless. It’s impressive that you’ve held out as long as you have.”

“Just be aware, he’s not the sort who does things in half-measures,” said Yusuf. She looked up at him, and he had a serious look in his usually laughing eyes. “I haven’t known him as long as some of the others, but I know he’s protective and possessive. The other women he’s been with, while brief flings, he was still single-minded in pursuing them until they ceased to interest him. You’re something more, and he won’t give you up so easily. If you’re uncertain, end things now, because he is not the sort who likes to be strung along.”

Without even thinking, Maria replied, “I’m completely certain. We’ve talked things through, and while we may not know what the future holds, we’re willing to trust each other and see where things lead.”

Aveline smiled. “Then you’ll be fine. Even if you’re not on the same page yet, you’re at least in the same book.”

“Which is more than can be said for a certain someone else,” Claudia growled darkly. At Maria’s look of surprise, she immediately gave her a bright grin. “But that’s in the past, and you’re now. Probably even future. So if you need advice, we’re happy to give it.”

“I think I’ve got things under control,” said Maria casually. “Though I’d appreciate if you could leave us alone this afternoon. We have…plans.”

Claudia’s eyes lit up. “You’re finally doing it?!”

Unable to do anything but laugh at the model’s enthusiasm, she replied, “Yes. So you’d better not bother us this time.”

“In that case, you’d better read that book cover to cover. It might give you some naughty ideas,” she said with a wink.

Evie rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Isn’t he sparring with my brother right now?”

“I believe he is,” said Yusuf, giving Maria a lascivious grin. “Sweetheart, I hope that fencing training has given you exceptional stamina.”

“Why?”

“Because, if his exes are to be believed, he’s always horny as hell after a fight,” Aveline answered with a smirk.

XXX

Meanwhile, down in the gym, a sparring ring had been set up in anticipation of the fight. Pacing the ring, Altair rolled his neck and shoulders, warming up his muscles. Malik stood in his corner with a towel and bottle of water, watching his friend prepare.

“I know this is pointless to say, but don’t do anything stupid,” he said bluntly. He’d never admit to worrying about Altair, but he wasn’t about to let his friend’s pride get in the way if he could help it. Jacob was a braggart, but he was damn good in the ring and wasn’t afraid of pulling dirty tricks to win. It was something they could respect; none of them got where they were by playing fair, after all. “We need you tonight, and getting sent to the hospital with a concussion will put a major damper on your plans.”

“I’m sure if necessary, you’ll be able to deal with King on your own,” Altair replied tersely.

“Probably, but I’m not talking about that; I’m talking about your plans with Maria.” Altair stared at him in surprise, and Malik rolled his eyes. “It’s obvious you’re planning on sleeping with her tonight. You were practically salivating when we left breakfast.”

“This afternoon, actually. I figured you’d appreciate me getting it out of my system ahead of time instead of trying to sneak off to fuck Maria all night.”

“I do, actually. We don’t need a repeat of Adha.”

Altair tried to ignore the way Malik practically spat out her name. He didn’t blame his friend for his disdain for the woman, but it was another reminder of how much his selfishness had cost Malik. After all, if he hadn’t run off with her that day, he’d have been the one in the car, not Malik and Kadar.

Jacob sauntered in with Arno, the two of them chatting animatedly. None of them had really thought that the Frenchman and the Brit would get along as well as they did, but oddly, their contradictory personalities had served to even each other out. Jacob’s cocky impulsiveness served to keep the more complacent Arno on his toes, while his more thoughtful, romantic personality seemed to mellow Jacob out a bit. Not to mention the two somehow always found an excuse to have a drink together, even if one preferred ale while the other sipped wine.

Giving the Syrian a smirk, Jacob jumped into the ring. “Ready to get your ass kicked, Al?” he asked, flexing his muscles.

“No, mostly because I’ve been preparing to knock you flat on your back,” he replied, cracking his knuckles.

“You can try, but I think that’s a position better suited to your lady friend.”

Golden eyes narrowed while nostrils flared, but Altair did his best to stay calm. Jacob was just trying to provoke him, to trick him into lashing out so that the UFC fighter could catch him off-guard. Jacob’s mouth may have a habit of getting him into trouble, but he also knew how to use it to turn things to his advantage. More than a few of his opponents had fallen for his mind games.

Henry held out his hands, stepping between the two. The Indian typically acted as their referee, given his preference for clean fights and the fact that he was one of the few people Jacob listened to. “Before you two start, let’s get the rules settled. I want a good, clean fight, so no eye-gouging, no hair-pulling, and no groin attacks. And I don’t care if Mike Tyson did it, there will be no biting, either. Break these rules, and there will be severe penalties.”

“Like what, Greenie? You’ll tattle to my sister?”

Henry’s smile was serene, but his eyes were sharp and calculating. “Perhaps I will. And while I’m at it, I’ll tell her about the unsanctioned match you participated in the morning of our wedding.”

The Englishman paled and nodded. He never wanted Evie to know that he’d nearly lost hers and Henry’s wedding rings because of a match. Even though he’d gotten them back, he knew his sister would murder him if she ever found out.

“And don’t look so smug Altair. If you step out of line, I’d be happy to tell Maria about the time you got chased out of Jerusalem.”

Altair’s smirk immediately dropped. Henry wasn’t the most combat-oriented member of their group, but the man wielded knowledge like a blade. He’d make good on that threat, and while Altair was more than willing to be honest with Maria, he wasn’t looking to let her in on every embarrassing secret of his life. “Fair enough.”

“Good. Shake hands, then get to your corners.”

Stiffly they did so, squeezing each other’s hand tightly, letting the other know that this was not some little play fight. They wore nothing but their pants and some bandages around their fists, both preferring the freedom of movement and adrenaline rush caused by a lack of protective gear.

The fight was a blur to both men. Strikes, jabs, and punches were blocked and dodged, with neither man landing more than a graze. They were a good contrast to each other; Jacob was broader and more muscular, relying on his strength and toughness to overpower his opponent. Altair, on the other hand, was leaner, using his superior speed and agility to dodge and deflect Jacob’s attacks, waiting for just the right moment to strike. But he knew better than to assume Jacob was all brawn; the man was faster and smarter than most gave him credit for, often luring smaller opponents into a false sense of security.

“If you’re this gentle in bed, I think Maria might be better off seeking pleasure elsewhere,” taunted Jacob, blocking one of Altair’s punches.

Snarling, the Syrian sidestepped an attempt to pull him into a hold. “I’m not wasting my strength on you. I’ve got plans for later.”

“Guess so. She a screamer?” he asked, dropping to the ground and knocking Altair’s feet out from under him.

Falling to the floor, Altair used the momentum to summersault backwards, springing back up to his feet. “None of your damn business!” he snapped.

“Probably is. I’ll bet underneath that prim and proper shell, she’s a real freak in bed,” Jacob laughed, dodging an enraged strike from his opponent. “Posh girls like that always are.”

“Posh girls like your sister?” Altair retorted with a smirk, delighting in how Jacob’s face immediately darkened.

“Fucking arse,” he snarled.

“No, I think that’s what you do. Or rather, that’s where you get fucked.” He ducked another wild swing, pleased that he only had to make one comment about Evie to shut the man up. He really didn’t like insulting women, especially those he held in high regard, and if there were ever a way to make Henry turn violent, it was that. Insulting Jacob’s past dalliances was much simpler.

“Twelve quid on Altair!” called Edward from the benches.

“Me too” laughed Ezio.

“I suppose I’m obligated to bet on Jacob, then,” said Arno from the man’s corner, a small grin on his face.

“Obligated? Thanks for the vote of confidence, Arno!” called Jacob over his shoulder. Altair used the momentary distraction to drop to the ground and sweep his legs, but Jacob had expected the move and jumped out of the way, lifting up his leg straight into the air and bringing it down on Altair. However, his heel only connected with the mat, the Syrian having already rolled to his feet, knocking Jacob down with a roundhouse kick to the side of the head. Jacob stumbled back, dazed, and Altair followed up by lunging forward and grabbing his arm, spinning around and twisting it behind his back.

For a moment, Altair relished the adrenaline pumping through his veins. Much as Jacob got on his nerves, the man was an excellent sparring partner. Whether boxing, mixed martial-arts, or training with weapons, he never had to worry about holding back or hurting him. And he always kept him on his toes; Rauf he knew too well as a fighter to really feel like he’d gotten a good match in, and as annoying as Ezio could be, he always found himself wary of hurting his cousin. Edward probably could have given him a good fight, but fit as he was, the years were catching up to the man, and Altair didn’t want to be the one to accidentally put him out of commission. The others he didn’t like sparring with, either; Connor was too gentle, Arno was more of a fencer than a hand-to-hand fighter, and if he dared hurt Yusuf, he knew he’d get an earful from Claudia. With the women, much as he respected them, he was more in favor of competing on the parkour course than risk hurting them in the ring.

For all the irritation Jacob brought him, he really was the only one he could go all-out with, and somehow, that made him feel closer to the man than he’d expected.

However, despite his painful grip on his arm, Jacob decided they were close enough to ram him into the corner post, winding his opponent long enough to escape his hold. Spinning around, Jacob punched him right in the stomach, forcing him to bend over while he desperately regained his breath. Fortunately for Altair, he was still able to block the elbow that attempted to come down onto his head, knocking Jacob’s arm to the side and planting his fist into the man’s ribs.

Letting out a sound of surprise and pain, Jacob took a single step back, but that was all Altair needed. With a lunge, he bashed his elbow into Jacob’s sternum, followed by a frenzy of punches to his stomach, then hooked his leg, knocking him down to one knee before finishing him with a well-placed punch to the jaw, causing him to collapse onto the mat.

Henry called the fight, and Edward and Ezio collected their winnings while Malik smirked proudly from his corner.

Panting, the two opponents stared at each other, ferocity and respect in their eyes. “Bloody hell,” Jacob gasped. “This how you get Maria on her back?”

“It’s not,” Altair ground out, sweaty chest heaving.

“Better not. She’s a good lass, and if you hurt her I’ll tear off your balls.”

A small chuckle came to his lips. “Assuming she doesn’t get there first,” he replied, holding out his hand. Jacob accepted it, allowing Altair to pull him to his feet.

“Another round?”

He glanced at the clock. It was only two, so he still had time before he needed to get ready. “Why not? Let’s make it best of three.”

XXX

Arriving at Altair’s room, Maria quickly inspected herself. She was wearing fitted jeans and a short-sleeved, button-up blouse, which while not overtly sexy, concealed a set of fancy lingerie she’d picked up during her spa day. Aveline had told her that, if she wanted to impress a man like Altair, she just needed to be herself, but showing her naughty side wouldn’t hurt.

Taking a deep, reaffirming breath, she settled the last of her nerves. She was ready for this. She was finally going to take the plunge, indulge in her own desires, and move on from Robert. He’d held her in his power for too long, keeping her under this control and playing with her feelings until she couldn’t even see him for the monster he truly was. Altair, on the other hand, trusted her enough to let her see both the good and the bad sides of him and let her decide for herself whether or not to stay. She wouldn’t mind him giving control, because he’d shown he was willing to turn it back over to her if she wanted it. With him it was give-and-take, a balanced relationship like she’d never had before. He wouldn’t pressure her, and when he made her submit to him, it was just as much for her pleasure as his.

Giving a brief knock, she stepped inside without waiting for an answer. _Let’s see how he likes it,_ she thought with a smirk. Closing the door behind her, she stood in awe of the master bedroom. The walls were pristine white and trimmed with gold, decorated with assorted paintings and antique swords. Blood red curtains draped over ceiling-height windows, and French doors appeared to lead out to a balcony. The room was lit by a gold and crystal chandelier twice the size as the one in her room, and she could see an elaborate artist’s table, shelves of books, a sitting area, and wardrobe. Right in the center of the room stood an enormous four poster bed on a raised dais, the luxurious red and white duvet and pillows making it look like something out of a sultan’s dream. Two large marble pillars stood before it, supporting the ceiling, and a salacious thought of being tied to one of them, naked, while Altair had his way with her passed through Maria’s mind. Swallowing, she looked back at the bed, and found her eyebrows furrowing in confusion; a large standing mirror was a mere three feet from the edge, an unusual place for such an item.

Before she could think much further on it, there was a flash of movement in the corner of her eye. Someone was rushing at her from behind the pillar at lightning speed. Before she could react, she found herself pinned to the wall, a harsh voice in her ear growling, “You’re late.”

A small sigh escaped her upon realizing it was only Altair, not some assassin. But despite her relief that she wasn’t under attack, she scowled. This was not how she expected to be greeted. “Bloody hell, how am I late? You said three, I came at three!”

“It’s five minutes past three. Five precious minutes I could have spent fucking you.” Hot breath danced across her cheek before he buried his face in her neck, lips furiously latching onto the tender flesh.

A moan passed her lips, which turned upwards into a smirk. It seemed Aveline had been right about Altair’s mood after a fight. He was shirtless, wearing only loose sweatpants, and smelled of musk and sweat, which only served to enhance his natural masculine fragrance. Clearly, the match with Jacob had been invigorating. “I had to change into something more appropriate. Trust me, it’s worth the wait.” She twisted her fingers into his soft brown hair, tugging his head upwards so she could capture his mouth in a kiss.

Tongues battled furiously before they at last parted for air. “Doubtful, since I plan on getting you naked soon enough,” he panted. Sliding his knee between her legs, he pressed the length of their bodies together so he could feel her every curve. They fit together perfectly, like she was made for him, and he had every intention of staking his claim.

She rolled her hips, teeth digging into her bottom lip as shocks of pleasure shot up to settle into a warm pool in her belly. She was reminded of their excursion in the alley, and the memory of how he’d reduced her to a moaning puddle of lust made her buck harder against him. “I’m sure you do, but who says I’ll make it easy?”

“The fact that you’re rubbing against my leg like a cat in heat is a good indicator,” he said, grinding the appendage against her sensitive core. “It’s just like the nightclub, isn’t it? Me, hot after a fight, and you, begging for me to touch you.”

“I’m not begging.”

A wolfish smile came to his lips as his golden eyes glittered with anticipation. “You will be.”

Stealing another kiss, he teased her mouth with sinful strokes of his tongue mixed with the firm pressure of his lips. Kissing her remained a drug to him, reminding him of how he’d coaxed her into submitting to him despite her initial disdain. She still tasted of ripe plums, sweet and succulent, an intoxicating flavor he adored. There was no doubt in his mind that no other woman’s mouth would be able to compare, nor was he interested in finding out.

Pulling away, he grabbed her hips and flipped her around so her chest was against the wall. Pressing his sculpted body against her back, he rubbed his already hardening cock against the plush flesh of her ass, hands against the wall on either side of her head, trapping her. Grateful for her sensible braided updo exposing the pale skin of the back of her neck, he once again attached his lips to her soft flesh, enticing a stifled gasp from his woman. Mouth alternating between licking, sucking, and biting, Altair’s hands dropped to her shoulders, teasingly stroking along her arms and collarbone before making their way around to cup her breasts.

Tweaking a hard nipple, he chuckled against her skin. “Your mouth may not be begging, but your body certainly is,” he whispered, deeply inhaling the scent of her. Roses and jasmine, with hints of something citrusy mixed with cinnamon invaded his senses. The heady smell made his head feel light while blood raced down to his cock. He wanted to imprint it into his memory, to wake up to it every morning, to bathe in her scent until any woman that came near him would immediately knew he belonged to Maria Thorpe.

Maria, meanwhile, was enjoying just how quickly he had managed to entice her body to indulge in the pleasure of his touch, hot hands stroking, massaging, and squeezing her breasts while his greedy mouth claimed the exposed skin of her neck. It seemed he was more than anxious to get down to business. Was six days without sex that much of a strain on his control? Grinding back against his cock, she glanced over her shoulder at him, a sexy smile on her kiss-bruised lips. “If my body’s begging, yours is pleading. Feels like someone’s even more eager than I am.”

“Maybe, but I’m just getting started.” Rough fingers quickly undid her jeans before shoving his hand down into her panties. He relished the groan she let out as he circled her pulsing clit. “So wet for me already? What have you been doing all day? Did you lay in your room, touching yourself, imagining what I had in store for you?”

She forced down a whine she felt begin to rise in her throat, hands clenching into fists to avoid scratching the walls. “No, I was reading that book Claudia loaned me. The sultan in it was quite arousing. He was just so sensual and commanding, I was rather reluctant to put it down,” she teased. Honestly, she had been reading it for the past hour, but her mind had replaced the sultan with Altair, and despite how good it had been, she’d still been counting down the minutes until it was time to get ready for the real thing.

“Then I’d best show you how much better I am than some imaginary character,” he whispered, unbuttoning her blouse with one hand while his other danced over her soaking lips. He bucked his hips against her ass, gladly letting her feel just how hard he was. “If you want commanding, I’d be glad to order you about. Naughty girls like you need a firm hand to keep you in line.” Successfully undoing her shirt, he grasped one of her breasts, teasing it as he plunged two of his fingers into her heat.

Maria’s neatly-filed nails dug into her skin as he pumped his fingers in and out, the heel of his palm grinding against her sensitive pearl.

“Did the sultan do that?” he breathed in her ear.

“Ah! Y—yes,” she replied, voice shaking as his hand sped up.

“How many fingers did he use?”

Her mind was getting fuzzy from the pleasure, so it took her a moment to recall. “Th—three.”

“Then I’d best add another.” And he did, stretching and filling her delightfully as the digits curled, pressing against her G-spot with every thrust. Maria’s cries intensified, and he rubbed his cock harder against her ass, hoping for some sort of relief. He had every intention of bringing her over the edge several times before he was through, but with the adrenaline and testosterone pumping through him from the fight, his body was begging him for release. Of course, if Maria was willing to follow his commands, maybe he’d get to cum sooner rather than later. Then he could once again give his full attention to making her writhe and beg beneath him.

With a few more thrusts, Altair felt her tighten and release all over his fingers, and he removed his hand from her jeans. Stepping away, he licked the sticky juices off before saying in a deep, commanding voice, “Turn around and strip. I want to see what’s underneath your clothes that was worth making me wait.”

Maria nearly moaned at the way his silky accent sounded even sexier with that tone. God, he really was like some sort of Arabian fantasy. Legs wobbly from orgasm, she nonetheless obeyed, slowly pulling off her blouse before kicking off her heels and shimmying out of her jeans. Steeping out of the pile of clothes, she put her hands on her hips and thrust out her chest, hoping that the pose she was striking was seductive rather than awkward.

She needn’t have worried, as Altair’s eyes instantly darkened with lust as he took her in. She was clad in a lacy lingerie set the color of the ripest plums. The bra cupped and lifted her full breasts enticingly, pressing them together to create delectable cleavage. The panties were high-waisted but cut high enough that it showed off her entire leg, making them appear to go on for miles.

Golden eyes took in her scantily-clad form hungrily. “Where did this come from?” he asked, fingertips brushing over the sheer fabric covering her hipbone.

“I bought them when I went shopping after my massage.”

Rough palms stroked up to her breasts and squeezed them, savoring the feeling of the soft flesh concealed by delicate lace. Bending down, he ran his hot tongue along the edge, enjoying the contrast of the textured fabric and her smooth skin. “Planning to seduce me? I thought you were still mad at that point.”

Her hand buried itself in his hair, yanking him closer as she replied breathily, “I was. It was a sort of petty revenge. I thought I’d wear them under my work clothes, smug in the knowledge that I was dressed up all sexy and you’d never get to see it.”

White teeth flashed in a predatory grin. “Seems things didn’t go as planned.”

“No, but I adapted, and everything has turned out for the better.”

Chuckling, he pulled back and placed his hand on her shoulder. “I agree, but I think I’d like a better angle. Get on your knees.”

Without even a moment of hesitation, she did so, and he slowly walked around her, inspecting his woman. The back of the panties laced-up like a corset just over her pert ass, giving her an incredibly naughty appearance that sent a thrill straight to his cock. The color went well with her pale skin, and he smirked at the sight of a small freckle that peaked out from just beneath the lace.

“Was the woman in your little book ever in this position?”

Licking her lips, she responded, “Yes. She tried to run away, once, but got attacked by bandits. King Tazim rescued her, but he demanded she pleasure him as penance for putting herself at risk like that.” Now that had been a hot chapter, as he then tied Elizabeth down to the bed and spanked her, then fucked her from behind until he was certain she wouldn’t have the strength to run off again. That was where she had to put the book down, and she was eager to see if she could outdo the fictional governess.

Gently, Altair grasped her braided bun, pulling out the pins and ties until it cascaded down her back. Her face looked so much softer framed by the brown waves, so deceivingly feminine and delicate. It made her appear almost innocent, and another thrill went through him at the thought of seeing her pouting mouth around his cock, lovely and debauched under his guidance.

Once again in front of her, he loosened the ties of his sweatpants and pulled out his fully-erect cock. “Suck me off. I want to watch that pretty mouth of yours swallow me to the hilt.”

With a blush and a smile, she obeyed, wine red lips lightly kissing the tip before wrapping delicately around the swollen head. A small suck enticed a moan from him, and she gradually slid him further into her hot, wet mouth, relaxing her jaw and throat as much as she could until he was fully sheathed within her.

It took everything in him not to buck his hips as she began to bob her head up and down his length, instead entangling his fingers in her hair so that he had something to ground him from the overwhelming sensations. His feisty lover, whom he was certain was a novice at giving oral, was using her tongue and lips like she’d studied his cock for years.

“Fuck, you’re good at this. Must be all those years of sexual repression. It’s always the posh girls who are secretly freaks in bed,” he panted, hips jerking slightly in response to a particularly sharp suck.

Maria couldn’t verbally respond, but she did roll the flat of her tongue over the thick vein of his cock, enticing a strained groan from him. She knew he was trying to hold back, to prolong the pleasure, but she was enjoying this, that juxtaposition of being submissive on her knees, but at the same time holding to power over whether or not he came. She was beginning to understand why he always seemed to get just as much pleasure when he had her at his mercy.

Altair’s body was anxious to cum, but he was reluctant to allow it, as the sensation of her soft, delightful mouth and tongue was simply divine. If he came now, the rapture would end, and he hated the idea of finishing so soon when they’d just started. It didn’t matter that he’d recover soon enough and have plenty of opportunities to return the favor; he wanted to savor this. “Slowly, Maria. I— _ugh!_ —want this to last.”

But Maria too was getting anxious, thighs rubbing together for stimulation, juices soaking her panties at the thought of all that hot, hard, velvety cock finally being inside her. Of course, she wanted to make him suffer more. She knew he was eager to be inside her, too, and a wicked thought entered her mind. As torturous as it would be to stop sucking him off now, it would be even more so if he had no choice but to wait even longer to finally sheath himself inside her hot and waiting quim. Plan settled, she began working her mouth and throat faster, sucking hard and taking him in as far as she could manage.

An overwhelming surge of pleasure hit him as the tip of his cock was engulfed by the tightening muscles of her throat, and he could feel his orgasm bubble closer to the surface. “Damn it, not yet!” he cried, but Maria merely smirked and continued sucking until her mouth was filled with his hot seed. She nearly chocked when it splashed the back of her throat, but she forced herself to swallow it down. It was a hell of a feeling, knowing that she’s made Altair lose control, especially after all the times he’d pinned her down and coaxed an orgasm from her.

Orgasm fading as he regained control of his senses, Altair pulled her to her feet, kissing her harshly as he unsnapped her bra, releasing the heaving breasts from their confines. “You’re going to pay for that,” he growled against her mouth.

“Good,” she replied before sealing their mouths again. He still tasted like rich mocha, hot coffee with a chocolate sweetness that made her mouth water and her thighs clench. She could feel his softening cock against her thigh, but she was certain he’d be ready for her again soon enough. Teasingly, she ran the tip of her nail along his length, and she grinned as his hips immediately jerked at the touch.

Lips still locked, Altair coaxed her towards the bed, chuckling slightly as they stumbled over the raised platform. When they at last separated, he pulled down her last scrap of clothing, stepping back to admire her naked form.

Maria was beyond beautiful. Her body was lean and muscled, broad shoulders and toned stomach so different from the soft and slender women he’d slept with in the past. Pale skin flushed in arousal, full breasts heaved as she gasped for air, and powerful thighs looked smooth and sensual. The hickey on her throat stood out like a brand, while the one he’d left on her upper thigh acted as a pleasant reminder of how she’d submitted to him just last night. He swallowed at how her lower lips glistened with her juices, and immediately he knew what he wanted to do next.

Climbing onto the bed, he lay against the pillows and beckoned her towards him. “Get up here. I want to taste you.”

Raising an eyebrow in mild confusion, she nevertheless did so, crawling over to his chest, teasingly giving his nipple a small lick, which earned her a stifled groan. When she failed to get into the position he desired, Altair grasped her thighs and coaxed her to straddle his face. “Grab onto the headboard. You’re going to need the support.”

Finally comprehending what he was planning, she nodded mutely, brown hair tumbling over her shoulders to tickle her breasts.

Once she was right where he wanted her, he tugged her hips lower and began licking her dripping core, smirking at the wicked mewl she let out. He was happy to eat his lovers out, but this position was not one he used often. He preferred his women under him, writhing as he pinned their hips to the bed, relishing in their helpless pleasure. But it felt right, not to mention immensely arousing, to allow Maria to be perched above him as he alternated between thrusting his tongue between her lips and suckling her clit. And there was satisfaction to be found in watching her squirm above him, arms strained and legs tense as she tried her hardest not to lose her balance and fall on his face.

Wanting to see if he could make her lose control like she had him, he smartly slapped her backside as he gave her pearl a sharp suck, chuckling as she let out a yelp and bucked her hips against his mouth. She let out another helpless moan as the vibrations from his laughter sent even more pleasured shocks through her, and he immediately started humming to intensify it further.

“ _Ah!_ Altair, don’t!”

Immediately he pulled back. “Did you not like that?” he asked, concern lacing his voice. He wanted her overcome with pleasure, after all, not uncomfortable.

“No, I liked it, but I don’t want to fall on you,” she gasped.

He let out another low chuckle, giving her thigh a playful nip. “Let me worry about that. Besides, I told you I’d make you pay.” Before she could argue, he pulled her hips back down and returned to devouring her juices with gusto, determined to bring her to completion. She cried out when he spanked her again, and spurred on by the way she began slowly bucking against him, continued to abuse her ass in time with his firm licks and gentle humming. Her wetness coated his mouth and chin, the smell of her filling his senses, and he decided this was definitely a very good position to pleasure his Maria in.

Unable to do anything but let him do as he pleased to her aching cunt, Maria’s knuckles turned white with the effort of not losing her grip on the headboard. She had tried to hold still, to stay in control as his mouth had its wicked way with her, but that clever tongue of his, mixed with his insistent humming and the shocking pleasure-pain from the slaps, was steadily turning her into a trembling mess. She was overwhelmed with pleasure as he did everything possible to ensure her body had no choice but to buck against his mouth, steadily rising higher and higher towards nirvana.

At last, she could rise no further, and her back bowed as she came against his mouth, hands grasping the headboard for dear life as she nearly toppled backwards, stars bursting in her eyes and hips continuing to jerk as her Altair eagerly lapped up her juices, sending delightful aftershocks through her. But much to her relief, she didn’t fall, his strong hand on her hip giving her that little extra support needed to remain upright.

Gasping for breath, she looked down at him, heart stuttering at the pleased smirk he was giving her. Golden eyes were dark with a possessive lust, looking very much like a tiger who’d enjoyed playing with his prey, but was finally ready to devour it. Before she could blink he had her on her back, kissing her deeply, mingling the taste of her juices with the lingering remnants of his seed.

When he pulled away, he swiftly went about stripping off his pants, baring himself to her completely. Maria watched as the dark slacks fell to the ground, exposing muscular thighs and sharp, narrow hips, his thick, again fully-aroused cock standing proudly. She hated to use the term “Adonis” to describe him, as it was so cliché, but his powerful chest, prominent abs, and sensual grin made it difficult to come up with a more fitting word. It was incredibly easy to see why he’d been so popular with the ladies, and it suddenly made her wonder whether she’d be able to satisfy him.

Kneeling on the bed while giving his cock a couple of teasing strokes, Altair leaned down to nibble her ear. “I’m going to fuck you now, Maria. I’m going to bury myself inside your tight cunt and make you mine.” Trailing his lips down to her chest, he mouthed at her breasts, lightly tracing her nipples with the tip of his tongue as he ground his ridged length against her hip. “I’ve been dreaming of this since I met you. I wonder, how loud will you scream as you cum? Should I gag you? Should I tie you to the bed, helpless, left with no choice but to just lay back and feel? Or should I bend you over the balcony railing and let the whole household know you’re mine?”

When she didn’t respond, body going tense, he pulled away, suddenly worried. She wore a pensive frown, and while her body was clearly still aroused, the typical flush his words might have brought to her face was absent.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “I’m only teasing. I’d never let another even catch a glimpse of you like that. Or have you changed your mind about this?” Much as it pained him, if she had gotten cold feet, he wouldn’t force her. She had every right to tell him to stop, to decide that she didn’t want to go any further, and he’d respect that, even if it meant he’d be forced to jerk himself off in the shower so he didn’t lose his mind.

“God, no!” she said, a small smile on her lips as her body relaxed. “It’s just…”

“What?” he replied, gently stroking her cheek.

Taking a deep, calming breath, determined silver eyes met gold. “I’m willing to let you take the lead, but I don’t want to be powerless. Not this time, at least. I want control over something. I want to feel like we’re equals in this. Does that make sense?”

Eyes softening in understanding, he leaned down and brushed his lips over her forehead. “Of course it does.” Getting up off the bed, he strolled over to his dresser. Maria propped herself up on her elbow, quietly admiring his muscular back and the way his hips moved. Feeling her stare, he smirked over his shoulder. “Enjoying the view?”

“You put on quite a show,” she chuckled, eyes shamelessly roaming his body.

“Anything to please my lady,” he replied before opening one of the drawers and pulling out a couple small objects. Maria couldn’t see them from her spot on the bed, but she had the feeling it was going to be interesting.

Altair returned to her, stealing another kiss before showing her what he had in his hand. There a foil packet containing a condom, and what looked like a small, studded leather strap. Confused, she raised an eyebrow, questioning without words.

Chuckling to himself at Maria’s innocence, he tore open the foil packet with his teeth, took hold of his erect cock and slipped the condom over it. Then, he wrapped the leather strap over the base of his cock, snapping it into place. Her eyes widened in understanding, and a blush came to her cheeks.

“If you want power, I’ll give it to you; I’m going to fuck you hard, in as many positions as I please, but I won’t cum until you give me permission. Deal?” he murmured against her lips.

“Are you sure?” she asked, fingers stroking the leather cock ring.

“Absolutely. I want this to be good for both of us.” A wicked smirk returned to his face. “And it does benefit me immensely. You see, I’ve been imagining all the ways I could to take you, to the point where I couldn’t decide what position I wanted you the most. This way, I don’t have to settle for just one, and I can see how many times I can make you scream before you finally can’t take anymore and let me cum.”

 _Ah, there’s that blush,_ he noted _,_ easing her onto her back. Spreading her legs, he knelt between them, teasingly rubbing the tip of his cock against her glistening lips.

Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, Maria chuckled. “Missionary? How tame of you.”

“I want to watch your face as I enter your tight cunt for the first time, see your expression when I make you cum all over my thick cock. Once I’ve gotten that, I’ll fuck you in all those dirty positions a naughty girl like you deserves,” he whispered.

As much as his instincts screamed for him to take her in one hard thrust and just start pounding, he entered her as slowly as he could, filling her inch by inch, relishing the way her face twisted in pleasure and her mouth dropped open. He could relate. She was hot and tight, clutching him like a glove, and it never ceased to amaze him how a woman’s cunt could manage to be both comfortingly soft and deliciously tight.

 _This may be the closest I’ll ever get to heaven,_ he thought, pulling out of her gradually. Entering her again a bit quicker, he set an unhurried, steady pace, determined to draw out her pleasure even as his instincts demanded that he fuck her into the mattress.

Maria didn’t remain passive, however. She wrapped her legs around his narrow hips, bucking and writhing beneath him, clawing at his back when he hit a particularly delicious spot. He groaned and arched at the sensation, not even caring if she managed to cut him. What did he care if blood got on his pristine sheets so long as he felt such pleasure? He felt a hand in his hair, and happily allowed her to pull him into a deep, sensual kiss. Angling his hips, he hit that spot he knew she liked again, loving the way she broke the kiss to let out a little mewl or gasp at every firm stroke. It encouraged him to speed up, which seemed to be her plan all along, as she smiled before latching her lips onto his taut throat, meeting his hips thrust-for-thrust.

Maria could feel her walls begin to clench around him. She’d had a couple of boyfriends, but none of them had ever made her feel so _full_ before. Altair was certainly blessed, but it probably helped that he’d turned her into such a hyper-sensitive, lustful mess beforehand, leaving her body practically desperate for his cock. And the studs from the cock ring added another layer of pleasure, rubbing her inner walls and outer lips in a way she’d never even imagined.

“Like this?” he asked, panting as he thrust even faster.

“Harder,” she moaned in his ear, pulling him even closer to her.

“Hmmm, I could do that.” He snapped his hips, jostling her and making her soft breasts bounce between them, but then pulled out agonizingly slowly.

“Damn it, I said harder!” she growled in frustration. She was so, so close, and now he chose to toy with her?

“And I am fucking you harder,” he replied, giving another powerful thrust, then pulling out languidly.

“Fuck me hard _and_ fast you miserable sod!” she screamed, bucking her hips impatiently.

“Ah, there’s the Maria I love. As much as I adore your sweet side, it’s your fiery temper that first entranced me.”

“If you’re so entranced, then quit playing around and fuck me! Otherwise, I’ll end this right here and finish myself off with my book.”

“If you insist,” he growled, snapping his hips hard and fast to the point where she couldn’t even keep up, left with no choice but to just hang onto him as her walls spasmed around his cock. Finally tipping over the edge, she flung her head back and screamed his name, eyes clenched shut as the intense pleasure overwhelmed her. She was practically a goddess in his eyes, her cheeks flushed and glowing with sweat, lips swollen, eyes glassy with desire when she could, at last, bring herself to open them again.

Altair felt immensely grateful for the cock ring, as he was sure that without it he would have cum from the sensation of her molten walls squeezing him like a vise. Flipping her over, he grabbed her hips and pulled her ass up, forcing her onto her hands and knees before him. This time he filled her with one smooth thrust, hips slamming against her ass as he set a brutal, pounding rhythm.

“Fuck, so tight. Such a good girl, cumming all over me. You were made for my cock, weren’t you? I could fuck you any way I please, anywhere, and you’d beg for it. Come on, Maria, beg me for more!” he growled, biting her neck and reaching around to rub her clit.

“Altair, _AH!_ Please, please give me more!” she mewled, and she sounded so fucking needy that he felt that even with the cock ring squeezing him tightly, he could cum just from listening to her beg.

Maneuvering onto her elbows, Maria pulled herself up, suddenly realizing that the way they were positioned meant she had a perfect view of them fucking in the mirror.

 _So that’s why that’s there_ , she thought absently, unable to do anything but watch him fuck her from behind, his face strained with the effort not to submit to his own body’s needs. His fingers were practically bruising her hips, his mouth was trailing kisses up and down her spine, and his thrusts were making her swollen breasts bounce in a way that was almost pornographic. She’d never imagined she’d enjoy watching herself get fucked, but as she did so, the tell-tale pressure and heat swelled between her legs, her hips jerking back against him as she clawed towards her completion.

Panting as he thrust furiously, Altair practically howled as his body burned in frustration. This was bliss. This was agony. This was torture. This was pleasure beyond comparison. His cock was near ready to burst, begging him for release. But he refused to give in. He promised Maria he wouldn’t cum until she let him, and there was nothing in this world that would make him break it.

With a gasp, another orgasm overwhelmed her, and Maria’s bones basically turned to jelly inside her as she collapsed on the bed, burying her face in the mattress as Altair continued his frantic thrusts. She was honestly surprised that he was still at it, that he hadn’t just taken off the cock ring and sought his own release. With the way he was fucking her so desperately, she wouldn’t blame him.

Much to her surprise, he pulled out before aggressively turning her onto her side, hooking one her legs over his shoulder. She heard him take a deep breath, then pierced her again, pounding into her slick and sensitive cunt as slowly as she was sure he could manage. One hand anchored her trembling leg over his shoulder, while his unoccupied hand pinched and rolled her nipples.

“ _Ah!_ Altair, I’m not sure I can handle anymore,” she whined, hips jerking at this new angle.

“Is that so? How many times did Tazim make Elizabeth cum? Surely you’re strong enough to handle more pleasure than some governess. But if it’s really too much for you, you know what to say to end this,” he murmured, voice hoarse and strained with desire. His body was torn between wanting her to end it so he could cum and hoping that she wouldn’t so he could enjoy the divine sensation of fucking her warm depths for all eternity.

Maria was in a similar position; she was hyper-sensitive, overwhelmed with pleasure, and exhausted from all the orgasms she’d already had, but she couldn’t help but ache for more. She’d gone years without a good lay, and somehow, the dirty, lustful part of her was determined to make up for lost time. So she bit her tongue and took it, moaning obscenely when his nimble fingers abandoned her breasts to circle and pinch her pearl. She was already close to another orgasm, and she was secretly in awe over how she hadn’t melted into a dripping mess at his words and cock.

“Fuck, you’re an insatiable wench, aren’t you?” he growled, thrusting harder, spurred on by the sounds coming out of her mouth. _She’s going to fucking ruin me,_ he thought, a tiny smirk twisting his scar. _No other woman will do after this. I’m going to need to keep her with me no matter what._ “At this rate, we might have to skip the party. If you’re this hard to satisfy, I’m going to have to get creative. I’ll tie you to the bed, legs spread, fucking you with a vibrator while you read aloud from that book. If you mess up, I’ll spank you, and you’ll have to start again.”

The pictures he wove through her head made her moan louder, and she knew from the way his hips were jerking and his hands were trembling that he was near the end of his rope. The thought of how hard he must be, how much he must be aching to release inside her, all the dirty things he’d be doing to her in the future, was enough to send her over the edge again, hands clawing the wrinkled comforter, hips jerking wildly as he rode her hard.

When she finally came down from that orgasm, she up looked at his face. Sweaty, flushed, and amber eyes on the edge of madness, she decided he’d at last earned his own orgasm. Barely able to catch her breath, Maria pushed herself up and said in little more than a whisper, “Altair?”

“Yes?” he growled,

“You can cum now.”

He froze, as if not completely comprehending what she’d said, before pulling out. She whimpered at the loss of such fullness, but let out a surprised yelp when he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her up so her back was against his chest. The heat of his body was intense as he whispered in her ear, “Are you sure?”

Looking over her shoulder, she delicately kissed his scar. “Yes.”

Without even a second of hesitation, he ripped off the cock ring, then immediately thrust back inside her aching heat. He could barely even chuckle at her surprised yelp, too overwhelmed with relief. Taking a deep breath, he began pistoning in and out of her at a rapid pace.

“Look in the mirror, Maria. I want you to watch me ravish you.”

She obeyed and nearly came again at the sight of them. They were the very picture of hedonistic bliss. Her face was flushed and covered in sweat, brown hair in utter disarray, sticking to her forehead, while grey eyes were smoky with desire. Full breasts bounced with every thrust, and she couldn’t quite take her eyes off where his heavy length disappeared inside of her. One of his arms held her upright, the muscles of his forearm tense with the strain. His other hand rubbed circles around her clit, rough fingers using just enough pressure to send bolts of pleasure through every nerve in her body. She watched as her hands slid upwards, one taking purchase in his damp hair while the other dug her nails hard enough into his arm to break the skin, sending tiny rivulets of blood to drip onto her sticky thigh and the sheets beneath them.

It didn’t take much more than that to bring them both over the edge, Altair already close to bursting, and Maria’s cunt so sensitive it was a miracle she could even take anymore.

“Altair!” she screamed, body giving out as her last orgasm hit her, collapsing in his arms.

“Maria!” he shouted, giving a few final thrusts as he finally came, back bowing at the overwhelming relief his cock felt as he released, seed practically erupting from him. Still holding her, he collapsed onto his side, clutching her tightly to his chest, nose buried in her sweaty and fragrant hair.

Panting, she nearly groaned when his sated cock finally slipped out of her. “I’m impressed you kept your promise,” she finally managed to say, eyes glassy with exhaustion and satisfaction.

“I promised you, didn’t I?” he murmured sleepily.

“That you did,” she said with a small, affectionate smile. She knew he couldn’t see it, but she was sure he could hear it in her voice. After a moment of companionable silence, she asked, “What now?”

“Now, we take a nap. We have some time before we have to get ready for the party, and we’re going to need it if we hope to get through the party and corner King.” Nuzzling her neck, he whispered, “After we sleep, I’d be happy to join you in the shower.”

Lightly, she slapped his shoulder in admonishment. “And you say I’m insatiable,” she muttered.

“You are. I just meant I was happy to help you clean up. But if you’re that anxious for another round…”

“A shower will suffice,” she said, twisting in his arms so she could rest her head against his chest. The dull, soft beating of his heart beneath her cheek was oddly comforting. “I want to be able to walk, after all.”

Soft laughter made his chest rumble. “Fair enough. Just remember, I’m always hardest after a fight, physical or verbal; depending on how things with King go, I might be pulling you into an empty room to relieve some tension.” Leaning down to caress her ear with his lips, he whispered, “And now that I’ve had you, I’m hooked.”

“So one night didn’t satisfy you?” she asked, hoping she didn’t sound insecure or judgmental.

Altair kissed her forehead softly, full of affection and tenderness. “Not at all. In fact, I doubt even a thousand nights could.”

She smiled, that last ember of the burning insecurity Robert had spent years fanning within her finally dying out. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she sighed happily, “Well, once we’ve dealt with Robert, I’d be happy to find out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, hot enough for you? Be sure to let me know in the comments. And if you're not already subscribed to this story, you might want to be so you'll know the second I update the next chapter.


	15. Costumes and Confrontations

Looking in the mirror, Maria was quite pleased with herself. The emerald green belly dancer costume looked as good as it had in the shop, and her hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, using jeweled pins to keep back a few stubborn locks that got in her eyes. The skirt, she was happy to discover, had pockets hidden in the folds, allowing her to carry her cell phone without the need of a purse. Dramatic eyeliner and gold eyeshadow gave her gaze a more seductive look, and red lips smiled invitingly. Aveline had helped with her makeup, being an expert at using it on stage to hide stubborn bruises and hickeys, for which she was extremely grateful. The bruise from the fencing bout had darkened to an ugly purple, and Altair’s love bites practically glowed red against her fair skin, so the cover-up had been necessary. Now they were so faint one couldn’t tell they were there unless they were looking for them.

There was a brief knock at the door before Altair strolled in, provoking an eye roll and exasperated smile from Maria. It seemed him ignoring common courtesy would just be something she’d have to get used to. She turned to playfully scold him, only to find the words stuck in her throat.

Like something out of her wildest fantasies, [Altair](http://love02bthings.tumblr.com/post/110198472245/altair-sadiek) stood before her wearing the garments of a desert warrior. A white hood draped over his shoulders, casting his handsome face in shadow, yet his strange gold eyes seemed all the more intense for it, and his scar fittingly dangerous and seductive. His pants were grey and billowy, though she couldn’t get a good look at them due to the white fabric that flowed around his legs, almost like the tails of long robes. His boots were leather and held a slight, pointed curl at the end, traditional to a desert warrior. A red sash and wide, brown leather belt wrapped around his waist to hold throwing knives, a dagger, and a sword. Leather fingerless gloves and bracers covered his arms to the elbow, and his torso was deliciously bare save for the leather harness strapped across his chest.

He smirked at her obvious staring, though he secretly admitted he was doing the same to her. “Do I meet your approval? If I’m going to be on your arm, I need to look my best.”

Swallowing down the sound of arousal that was making its way up her throat, she nodded. She was still sore from their earlier lovemaking, and if she wanted to get through the night without a noticeable limp, it was probably best to hold off on jumping his bones for later. “You pass inspection, I suppose,” she managed to say before her breath caught when he stepped forward, stopping mere inches from her suddenly too-hot form, eyes roaming her body intently.

“And you look like a harem girl wishing to be stolen away from the palace by a desert bandit,” he whispered, letting his fingers gently stroke her midriff.

Her lips rose into a seductive smirk, running her hands along his exposed pectorals. “Perhaps I have been. Only I think this so-called bandit is secretly a prince, and he’s rescued me from a life of servitude to an evil nobleman.”

He smiled at the comparison, tilting her chin to meet his eyes. “Of course, you put up quite the fight when I captured you. Your loyalty and affection is something that I had to earn, bit by bit.”

“And earn it you did. And now I’m yours to do with, however you like,” she whispered, teasingly running her fingers along the top of his belt. Screw the party; seeing Altair in the outfit was sending her hormones into overdrive. She wouldn’t mind having another go or three.

With a stifled groan, he grabbed her hand and pulled it away. “If it were up to me, we’d skip the party and explore this little fantasy further. But I promised Malik that we wouldn’t leave him to face the party alone.”

“He could always join us,” she teased. “You’re the one always proposing a threesome.”

The eagle-like glare he gave her might frighten most, but Maria merely smirked. “Aren’t you supposed to be the one who prioritizes business over pleasure?”

“Clearly, you’ve created a monster.”

Her dry response morphed his glare into a small laugh, his eyes softening with humor and affection.

Now that she was up close, Maria found herself admiring the bracer on his left arm. It looked medieval, yet upon closer inspection discovered it held an odd mechanism that produced a spring-loaded blade from his wrist. Eyes wide, she gave him a questioning look.

“It’s a hidden blade. I came up with the design, but Ezio’s inventor friend, Leo, perfected it.” He flexed his pinkie, and a sharp, steel blade released. “This is the first model he made. It turns out my missing finger is something of a blessing; otherwise I’d end up stabbing myself every time.”

“Clever, but I’m not sure why you’d need such a thing for a costume party,” she replied, though she couldn’t keep the admiration out of her voice. She knew Altair was innovative, but she never expected him to design such a weapon.

Retracting the blade, he gently cupped her chin. “I’d rather be safe than sorry, Maria. I know it seems paranoid, but until de Sable is brought to justice, I cannot afford to let down my guard. Not when the person who is becoming most precious to me is near.” Delicately brushing his lips across hers, he resisted the urge to pull her into a deeper kiss. “Before we end up distracting ourselves, I brought you something.” Reaching into the waistband of his belt, he produced a stunning emerald and diamond [necklace](https://www.instagram.com/p/-TORDNSQbz/). “I thought it might go well with your outfit.”

Jaw dropping, Maria stared at the necklace. Knowing him, it wasn’t some cheap prop he’d picked up at the costume shop. Before she could refuse such a clearly expensive gift, he’d already turned her around, fastening it around her neck. It was shaped like a collar, made of gold and inlaid with emeralds the size of her fingernail and tiny diamonds that glittered like stars. An especially brilliant emerald hung low like a pendant, just above the dip of her cleavage, while delicate gold and diamond chains draped over her collarbone.

“It looks perfect on you,” he murmured reverently.

She couldn’t argue that it was stunning and matched the fabric of the costume beautifully, but she couldn’t allow herself to agree. “Altair, it’s gorgeous, but I can’t accept this.”

“Why not?” he asked, brow furrowing in the mirror. He looked almost offended that she was rejecting his gift, but she refused to let him fall into the habit of trying to buy her affections like he might other women.

“It’s too much,” she insisted, turning to face him. “You know I’m not the sort to drape herself if expensive things. Buying a necklace like this just for a costume party simply isn’t practical, no matter how much money you have.”

Understanding reached his eyes, and he smiled softly. “I didn’t buy it. That necklace belonged to my mother.”

Her eyes widened. “Your mother?”

“Yes. My father apparently gave it to her as an anniversary gift a few years before I was born. My Aunt Maria, Ezio’s mother, held onto it after she died at Father’s insistence. After I finally reconnected with them, she gave it to me and told me that if I ever gave it away to some fling, she’d beat me bloody.”

“Then why are you letting me wear it?”

Calloused fingers stroked her shoulders lovingly. “Because I want you to know you’re not a fling. I want everyone to know I’ve found a woman that I intend to cherish forever.” A thought occurred to him, and he found himself chuckling. “Though be warned, when Ezio sees you, he will insist on taking a photo and sending it to his mother. And then you’ll have no choice but to fly to Italy to meet her. There will be no escape.”

They were interrupted by another knock on the door, however this time the visitor waited for leave to enter. Once given, [Malik](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/d6/36/2d/d6362df025fdae93e21d573b350459ea.jpg) glided into the room, looking magnificent in long white robes covered by a gorgeous dark blue coat. The coat was high-collared, adorned with silver and gold designs, with long sleeves that concealed his missing arm quite well. The white robes underneath were quite like Altair’s costume, only he bothered to keep the top.

“Well, don’t you look handsome,” Maria said, breaking away from Altair and approaching his partner.

“What are you supposed to be?” Altair asked, mildly annoyed at his best friend interrupting their tender moment.

“A sorcerer. Hopefully I’ll be able to make annoying people disappear,” he replied, giving Maria an appreciative once-over. “Seems we all went for something of an Arabian theme.”

“Best be careful, then. It might give Claudia ideas for a new book,” she joked.

“So long as I don’t have to model for it, I don’t care.” His eyes seemed to linger for a moment on her chest, and just as she was sure she’d have to tell him off, he said, “Nice necklace.” He looked up at Altair, an approving smile on his lips. “It suits her.”

Altair returned the look. He knew Malik already accepted Maria, but his eyes said more; that he approved of her staying in Altair’s life, and by extension, Malik, Rauf’s, and the rest of the brotherhood’s. The necklace was a promise that he would finally devote himself to something beyond revenge and fleeting, physical pleasures.

The billionaire was finally ready to focus on life, not death.

Bending down to steal a quick kiss from his lover, Altair offered her his arm. “Shall we head down?”

Gladly, she took it, giving Malik a grin. “Just so you know, I’m expecting at least one dance from you.”

Chuckling, he followed them into the hallway. “I don’t dance.”

“You danced with me in the club.”

He gave her a wink. “Only to get Altair off his moping ass. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I was not moping, I was planning my next move,” the man in question growled.

Maria stifled a laugh as Malik quietly mouthed, “Moping.”

XXX

The party was certainly an Auditore affair. The ballroom was lavishly decorated with draped fabric, fairy lights, crystal chandeliers, and more. Scattered about were extravagant buffet tables and servants carrying trays of champagne flutes. There were couches and chairs clustered together to make designated sitting areas, and she could see the strings of lights also lead outside into the garden for those who wanted a moment of privacy or peace.

Of course, that didn’t mean there wasn’t still a party atmosphere. A dancefloor, complete with underlighting, multicolored LEDs, and an enormous DJ booth already had people grinding to Lacuna Coil’s “I Forgive (But I Won’t Forget Your Name).” There were at least three massive bars on the main floor, and Maria was certain she could see another upstairs.

Despite the crowd, she managed to spot a few recognizable faces. Connor and Aveline were up on the balcony, his sharp navy uniform pairing nicely with her green, early-American gown and hat. She watched as they were approached by Arno and a gorgeous red-haired woman, both dressed like they’d stepped out of _Les Misérables_. Down on the main floor, the birthday boy was perched on one of the couches, dressed in a white and red Renaissance ensemble, complete with a cape and high collar, surrounded by scantily-dressed women.

“There you are!” shouted Claudia, dashing towards them. She was a vision in a jeweled clam-shell bikini and sheer pink robe, hair beautifully curled and skin covered in shimmering gold dust and seductive makeup.

“You look lovely, Claudia, but I’m not sure what you’re supposed to be?” Maria asked politely.

“Aphrodite, of course,” she giggled.

“Somehow, I’m not surprised.”

The Italian looked them all over, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “Well, don’t you three look good together. I think I just came up with a new book idea.”

“Told you,” Malik whispered playfully.

“Dare I ask what it is?” Altair said, elbowing his friend lightly. Usually he wouldn’t care, but if it was inspired by Maria, he wouldn’t mind taking notes for future reference. They had the costumes, after all, and his lover did look particularly delectable in hers.

“I’m imagining a beautiful palace dancer catches the eye of the sultan’s personal magician and the prince of a visiting desert tribe. Both men are determined to win her for themselves, and the dancer is caught in a seductive battle between them. Meanwhile, the sultan is torn between giving her to the prince to seal an alliance, or to the magician to ensure his loyalty. Oh, I’m going to need to contact my writers right away!”

“It’s not a terrible premise for a story,” Malik said grudgingly.

“With your imagination, you should write the books yourself,” Maria noted.

Claudia shook her head. “Sadly, with runway shows, photoshoots, managing both my publishing company and Rosa Amore, and everything else in my life, I simply have no time to devote to writing. I’m happy to simply throw ideas at my talented authors and let them take it from there. I’m much more involved in Rosa’s product line.” Her eyes lit up again in inspiration as she pulled Maria close. “Speaking of, I made a call to my manufacturer, and we’re going to make an Arabian Night-themed toy line. We’ve already discussed dildo shapes, sexy lingerie, and jingling handcuffs! What do you think of flavored lube in a genie bottle?”

“I have no personal experience, but it’s not a terrible idea,” she replied awkwardly.

“Well, that makes you perfect to test it out! What’s your favorite flavor?”

“Claudia, quit trying to coerce my woman into advertising your kinky products. I won’t stand for it,” Altair growled, pulling Maria away from his playful cousin.

“Oh hush, Altair! Like you haven’t already made a note to buy two of each when they come out. And don’t try and say you never would; I know for a fact you order from Rosa under the name ‘Umar Masyaf.’”

“I do no such thing!”

Before things could turn into an argument, Edward’s voice broke in, “Oh, sure, when she wears clamshells, she’s a goddess, but when I do it I’m ‘drunk’ and ‘no longer welcome at the aquarium.’”

The group turned to address the older man, who was lavishly dressed as a pirate captain, a fellow pirate at his side. She could almost pass for an extremely gorgeous man, with her billowy shirt and tight pants, but her blood red lips and smoldering eyes made it very clear she was a lady through and through.

“Edward, it’s things like this that make me think I can’t take you anywhere,” said his companion, rolling her eyes.

Claudia gave them a warm smile. “Glad you could make it, Mary.”

“I wouldn’t miss the chance to watch your brother make a spectacle of himself for the world,” she replied, kissing the Italian model’s cheek in greeting. “Watching this lout do it gets old after a while.” She turned towards the party’s host. “Altair. Malik. Kenway hasn’t caused you too much trouble, has he?”

“Not yet,” replied Malik with a smirk. “But the night’s still young.”

“Aye, that it is. Sometimes I wonder why I hand around the oaf.”

“It’s a sacrifice you chose to make to spare the rest of us,” Altair quipped with a dry chuckle.

“I suppose so. Some days I wonder if it’s worth the trouble.”

Catching Edward’s eye, he gave the pirate a meaningful look. “Well, if you ever need to drag him away from the crowd to spare us further, the backyard should be nice and quiet. The last thing I need is this idiot making a scene in my house. I’ll have enough troubling wrangling Ezio.”

A glint of understanding twinkled in his eye as he took Mary’s arm. “Aye, perhaps it’s best if we head there now. I’m sure I can prove to you exactly why you keep me around,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

With an exasperated eye roll but a secretive smile, Mary allowed him to lead her out of the ballroom.

Maria watched them in confusion. “What was that about?”

Altair smirked. “The backyard is blocked off to the rest of the guests, so it’s where I decided to put Edward’s anniversary gift to her.”

“You put Bonnie Anne in the backyard?”

“Yes, along with the other horses. I don’t need Edward getting drunk later on and passing out in the stables again. I’ll have enough trouble tonight wrangling Ezio, Arno, and Jacob.”

She gave him a small smile. “You’re really just a softy, aren’t you?”

That statement quickly caught Malik and Claudia’s attention, while Altair wrinkled his nose in disdain. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Maria gave a light laugh. “Oh? Despite how much Edward obviously annoys you, you let him keep Mary’s surprise here, then put it in the backyard, which is infinitely more romantic than the stables. And despite how protective you are of Claudia, you gave her and Yusuf time to be together when he arrived, rather than dragging him off for planning. You act like some sort of sour, reluctant ally to this mad group, but really, you adore them, don’t you?”

“I do no such thing. I tolerate them for the greater good,” he grumbled, though the words failed to carry any real weight.

“Actions mean more than words with you, Altair. And those actions have proven you’re a sentimental fool,” she teased, tapping a finger over his heart. “I’ll bet you consider every one of them your extended family, don’t you? Do you send them each personalized Christmas cards?”

Malik and Claudia couldn’t contain their laughter, even as Altair fumed. “She has a point, brother. After all, who was it that encouraged Connor to finally ask Aveline out?”

“Or who tracked down my ex-fiancée so Ezio could beat him up? And don’t think I don’t recognize that necklace Maria’s wearing!” Claudia crowed. “You know I’m telling Mama!”

“I simply saw no point in delaying the inevitable,” Altair replied, the shadow of his hood luckily hiding his faint blush. “On all accounts.”

“If you say so. If you’ll excuse me, I need to make a call to the office. I plan to have the debut of that line coincide with the re-release of _Slave to the Sultan’s Lust_ , but if my writers can get this new book started, it may be ready for print in time to tie it in! See you later!” she called, dashing into the garden.

“You have to admire her entrepreneur spirit, if nothing else,” said Malik dryly.

“I’m too busy admiring how she’s managed to secure those shells,” Maria quipped. “If she doesn’t have a wardrobe malfunction by the end of the night, I’ll be truly impressed.”

“What’s sad is that she’s still more covered up than some of the garments she’s worn for photoshoots,” said Altair, shaking his head. “I can’t even go to Victoria’s Secret runway shows anymore; I’ve seen more of my baby cousin that I ever wanted to.”

“Oh, is that why you don’t go anymore?” replied Malik, nudging him playfully. “I thought it was because of one too many ex-girlfriends being her coworkers?”

Maria smirked. “Oh? Anyone I should be worried about?”

Altair grinned wolfishly and pulled her close. “Not a chance. After all, who could compare to you?” 

XXX

Over an hour later, Altair and Malik had gone to speak with a few business associates while Maria enjoyed the party. Ezio had pulled her onto the dancefloor for several songs before gleefully snapping a selfie of the two of them and running off. Edward and Mary had returned, the older man’s blonde hair noticeably mussed, and a few smears of red lipstick around his mouth. She’d briefly spoken with Claudia again, who continued to hint her interest in using Maria for advertising some of her products, but a timely interruption from Arno introducing her to his girlfriend had derailed that conversation.

Having worn herself out dancing, the Englishwoman decided it was time to take a break and possibly find Altair again. After all, the DJ was taking requests, and she was certain he wouldn’t be opposed to dance to “Closer” again. Having just extracted herself from the gyrating crowd, she scoped the massive ballroom, hoping to catch sight of her hooded lover.

“So, you’re Altair’s latest squeeze,” a coolly accented voice said from behind her.

Maria turned and was confronted with one of the most stunning women she’d ever seen. She wasn’t as tall as her, but she was certainly lithe, with golden skin, onyx hair, and piercing eyes. She was dressed as an Arabian priestess of some kind, with gold bands and a magnificent jeweled headdress.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” Maria said, extending her hand. “I’m Maria Thorpe.”

“Ah, so the mystery woman does have a name,” she sneered.

Maria dropped her hand, polite demeanor suddenly gone. “Yes, I do, though you’ve yet to give me yours,” she said coldly.

“My name is Adha min-Alkas, and I’m only going to say this once; stay away from Altair.”

“And why should I listen to you?” she asked, guard immediately up. She was reminded of the rude, snooty women back in the office that constantly looked down their noses at her for her various imagined slights, and knew any perceived weakness would be pounced on.

She continued to look down her nose at her, one perfectly-shaped eyebrow raised disdainfully. “I’m looking after his well-being. Considering how no one knew who you were, it’s clear you’re a nobody who’s only after his money. We might not be together anymore, but I refuse to let the man shame me by being ensnared by some gold-digging hussy.”

Maria’s silver eyes turned stormy. “I’m not interested in his money. I was invited here as his guest, and the birthday boy,” she jerked her head over towards Ezio, who was happily holding court over by the buffet, “doesn’t seem to mind. So, considering how the two people whose opinions actually count at this party don’t care that I’m a ‘nobody,’ I’d suggest you go find someone else to shame.”

“All gold-diggers claim they’re not interested in the money, but I know your type. You think you’re like Cinderella; show up at a fancy party, dance with the prince, and get him to marry you without having to lift a finger.”

 _Where the hell is all this coming from?_ Maria thought. “Actually, I rather admire Cinderella; she worked hard, endured an abusive home life, had the courage to attend the ball despite her abusers’ attempts to thwart her, and wasn’t even interested in snaring the prince. She was just happy that a nice, charming man had asked her to dance and had shown her kindness. However, where she and I differ is that I’d probably end up beheading any little twat that dares think she has the right to insult me, so I’d suggest you get out of my face.”

Adha glared at her. “How much?”

“Excuse you?”

“Everyone has a price. How much will it take for you to crawl back where you came from?”

Before Maria could furiously tear her a new one, Claudia and Aveline appeared at her side. “ _Ma chere,_ is this wretch bothering you?”

Adha sniffed indignantly. “As a matter of fact, she was.”

Claudia glared at her. “We were talking to Maria, _puta_. Because unlike you, she was invited.”

“I’m Richard King’s date,” she replied, smiling smugly at Claudia’s shocked expression. “And I highly doubt this _nobody_ was invited.”

“Ezio invited her himself,” Aveline cut in. “And even if he hadn’t, I’m quite certain our illustrious host can invite whomever he desires to a party at his own home.”

Claudia snarled at the heiress. “So why don’t you toddle off somewhere and quit bothering our friend?”

A smile came to Maria’s lips. Killers or not, clearly she had been drawn into a group that looked after each other. She’d known these women little more than a day, yet she found herself warmed by their words. She truly had missed having female friends.

Adha glared at the trio. “Fine. But mark my words, Altair will realize his mistake and toss you back into the gutter where you belong.”

“Assuming I don’t throw you there first,” came a new voice, and they all turned to see Evie giving the heiress a look of death. She was dressed as a gothic vampire, covered in black leather and red silk. The blood on her lips, faux fangs, and red contacts certainly enhanced the glare, and Maria could see Adha stiffen.

“I’m not looking for trouble,” she said haughtily, though she couldn’t quite keep the tremble out of her voice. “I’m simply looking out for Altair.”

“You left Altair eight years ago, Adha. Get over yourself, and get out of my sight,” Claudia sneered. Maria was shocked at the sheer hatred the Italian was exuding, as if this woman had insulted _her_ , not someone she barely knew.

“ _Oui_. You had your chance, and you blew it.” Aveline flipped her hair over her shoulder. “We may not be able to kick you out, but I doubt you wish to attract the attention of the ones who can. For the sake of your dignity, get out of our sight.”

With nothing more than a parting glare, the woman flounced off.

Maria stared at the woman until she’d finally vanished into the crowd. “Who was that and how can I make sure I never see her again?”

“That was Adha. One of Altair’s exes.”

“I gathered that much. And I suppose I should have expected to run into a jilted lover at some point, but she seemed…bitter.” She gave the other women a considering look. “And you all seem quite tense. Surely she must have done something truly awful to have earned such a visceral reaction?”

Claudia shook her head. “How do I begin to explain Adha?”

“I once punched her in the face, and it was awesome,” replied Evie sardonically.

Claudia chuckled. “She was Altair’s girlfriend before the crash. She’s the heiress of a massive oil company that Al Mualim had wanted to get his hands on, and is apparently even distantly related to royalty. The old man basically put them in an arranged marriage. From what I understand, he was quite taken with her.”

Aveline nodded, leading them over to a nearby couch. “They were broken up long before I joined the group, so I didn’t know her then, but Connor told me the relationship was…unbalanced, to use his words.”

“And an inevitable disaster, to use Malik’s,” added Evie. “She was the kind of girl who was given everything she ever wanted, except freedom. Altair knew the feeling of being under another’s thumb, so they bonded quickly. This led to a rather rebellious relationship, where they did everything from sneaking out to parties to having sex in the Church of the Holy Scripture.”

Maria’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding!”

“She’s not,” Aveline said, a hint of humor in her voice. “Altair’s not allowed in Jerusalem ever again because of that.”

“So why did they break up?”

“She was…less than supportive when Kadar died,” said Claudia. “From what I heard, she was upset that Altair wasn’t as attentive to her after the funeral. She left him a couple months after.”

“Seriously?”

Evie rolled her eyes, flagging over a drink server. “She’s the spoiled, needy sort. The kind that can’t stand it if she’s not the center of attention.”

“And of course, considering Altair was dealing with Kadar’s death and Malik’s rehabilitation, then taking out Al Mualim, reinventing the company, and his mission, he didn’t have a whole lot of attention to spare her,” Claudia groused. “So she broke it off, but still shows up out of the blue sometimes in hopes that Altair’s just desperate enough to get back with her.”

To say Maria was confused would be an understatement. “That was eight years ago, though. Surely she should have gotten over him by now?”

Evie growled, “Oh, she’s tried to sink her claws into a few other men. My brother, for one. Fool fell for it, too, until he realized she was one of Altair’s more obsessed exes. Then he dumped her ass, and I had the privilege of breaking her nose when she tried to blackmail him into taking her back. Her problem is that she thinks the world revolves around her. So, if one of her ex-lovers finds happiness with a woman she considers inadequate, clearly the world is going to think she’s a lesser woman.”

“Because if a man falls in love with a woman who’s not at ‘her level,’ that reflects badly on her,” Aveline snarked, rolling her eyes and sipping her champagne.

Maria nodded, but she honestly felt a little sorry for the woman. Sure, she had been a bitch, but it couldn’t have been easy to have been raised in such a stifling environment, then date a man who’d lost his little brother, nearly lost his other brother, and was consumed with revenge. She doubted they were right for each other regardless, but she could see where the other woman was coming from, as skewed and twisted as it was.

Still, she refused to let it bother her. She wasn’t even mad that Altair hadn’t told her about the woman. If he’d really been in love with Adha, then it was probably a sensitive topic. “Well, if that’s the worst of Altair’s former lovers, I’d say I’m in the clear.”

Claudia frowned. “You’re handling this well.”

She shrugged. “Like I said, Altair and Ezio’s opinions are the only ones that count here. And while I’d love to hear if there are any other bitter exes I should watch out for, such gossip seems more appropriate for a slumber party.”

Evie, Claudia, and Aveline shared a grin. “Well, that sounds like an invitation if I’ve ever heard one,” said the Bayou beauty.

“I agree,” said Evie, toasting.

“I nominate Aveline’s place. Connor’s far less likely to try and spy on us than the other boys,” chirped Claudia.

“Wait, what?” Maria asked.

“You girls are always welcome at my home. And I’m sure by that point Maria will have plenty of juicy stories about Altair to share,” Aveline said, winking at her.

“Oh, she already does,” giggled Claudia. “Why, just this morning I caught them—”

“Would you like to dance, Miss Thorpe?” asked Arno, appearing out of nowhere and interrupting Claudia’s gushing story.

“Yes, please, absolutely,” said Maria, grabbing his hand and practically dragging him towards the dance floor. She didn’t know the Frenchman very well, but she knew a rescue when she saw one.

As they started swaying to Kerli’s “Feral Hearts,” Arno gave her a smile. “Getting along with the other ladies, I see.”

“Yes, though they can be a bit much at times.”

“And you had the pleasure of meeting Adha,” he said, face souring. “She won’t be here long. If she’s smart, she’ll leave now. If she’s lucky, Altair will have security quietly escort her off the property. If she’s neither, Malik will find her.”

“What will happen then?”

“I’m not sure. But he hates that woman with a passion. Last time they crossed paths he nearly struck her.”

Maria was shocked. She knew Malik was more than capable of killing a man, but for some reason she couldn’t picture him laying hands on a woman. “Why?”

“She brought up Kadar’s death less than tactfully.”

“Ah.” That was all she needed to hear.

“I hope I’m not being too presumptuous, but I’m happy Altair met you. I’ve seen him with many women, but this is the first time he’s seemed genuinely happy. I believe love is the most important thing in anyone’s life.”

“Thank you, but it might be a bit early to call it ‘love.’”

He gave a knowing smile. “Perhaps, but he’s different around you. More at ease. For the longest time, many of us could never tell what he was thinking. Now he’s an open book, and written on every page is how much he adores you.” As the song ended, Arno gave a little bow. “I should get back to my own date, but please, take care of him.”

Amused, she curtsied, lips lifted in a warm, reassuring smile. “I can promise you, I will.”

XXX

As it turned out, Adha was not smart, and far from lucky, as she found herself running into both Altair and Malik by the bar.

The handsome, one-armed Syrian snarled, **“What the fuck are you doing here?”** Their mother tongue sounded harsh and fierce, and while Altair was grateful he’d unconsciously slipped into it, as it minimalized anyone overhearing and causing a scene, it was proof of just how furious his friend was.

She glared back at him. **“Looking after Altair. I figured I should warn him about the English harpy that’s trying to sink her talons into him.”**

**“The only harpy here is you.”**

**“How dare you!”**

Knowing a fight was inevitable, Altair placed himself between the two. **“Adha, what are you doing here?”** he asked, voice even and eyes emotionless. **“You weren’t on the guest list, and I’ve told you we are through.”**

**“I’m Richard King’s date. Ordinarily I wouldn’t bother with such a pointless party as this, but after seeing that gold-digger in the papers, I figured I’d come save you from yourself.”**

His brows furrowed in concern at this tidbit of information while Malik sneered behind him. Turning, Altair gave his friend a meaningful look. Grudgingly, he took the hint and strode off, but not before tossing Adha another cold glare, smirking when she shrank back.

Once Malik had left, Altair addressed his former lover. **“I’m not sure why you’re so obsessed with my personal life, but be at peace; Maria is no gold-digger.”**

**“Don’t be naive, Altair. Al Mualim taught you to see the darkness in everybody. She’s clearly only interested in your money and fame.”**

**“Much like you were?”**

His harsh statement seemed to humble her. **“That was what brought us together, yes, but it wasn’t what kept us strong. I loved you.”**

Gently, he took her hand. **“Adha, I was willing to give up everything for you. My money, my position, everything. You made me feel free for the first time in a long while. I wanted to run away with you, to become just a normal couple where no one would know our names. But then the accident happened, and you left me. You weren’t there when I needed you most.”**

**“I wanted to help you, but I couldn’t. And with all those changes you were making, my family never would have stood for the marriage.”**

**“If you had truly loved me, you would have found a way.”**

**“And if you had truly loved me, you would have fought harder to get me back!”** she snapped.

There was a tense moment of silence before Altair gave a regretful sigh. **“You’re right. Perhaps we were simply deluding ourselves.”**

 **“Perhaps we were,”** she replied sadly, finally accepting the inevitable.

Hesitantly, he pressed a light kiss to her brow. **“I wish it could have turned out differently, but we both need to move on.”**

She gave a bitter laugh. **“Like you’re any more capable of letting go of the past than I am.”**

A rueful smile came to his lips. **“You’re not wrong. But the difference is that I have found people to help me deal with the pain, and I now have someone who makes me care more about the future. I hope someday you can do the same.”**

With a defeated frown, the heiress turned away. **“I’ll leave you to it, then. But remember, if she breaks your heart, I gave you fair warning.”**

 **“That you did. Now go enjoy the party.”** A hard, meaningful glint flashed in his golden eyes, one she had seen far too often after Kadar’s death. **“But Adha, for your own sake, do not bother Maria, or me, ever again. And if I find you’ve spoken ill of her, like you have the other women in my life, I will not be merciful.”**

At that moment, Adha was reminded of another reason she had left him all those years ago. A reason she hadn’t wished to admit, even to herself.

When Kadar died, so did the adventure-hungry, charming boy she’d fallen for. Altair was broken in a way she couldn’t fix. Instead, he’d been replaced by a predator, cold and fierce, with little room left for love in his heart. In truth, that side of Altair had terrified her.

So she’d left, unable to deal with the tragedy, but too proud to admit it. So instead, she’d lashed out, sabotaging his new lovers and giving him numerous opportunities to beg for her to come back to him, to show that he was, deep down, still the boy she’d fallen for.

Yet despite her failure, oddly enough, she found she now couldn’t hate the new woman in his life.

After all, if this Maria Thorpe could love the beast he’d become, perhaps they deserved each other.

XXX

While Altair took care of Adha, Malik found Maria lingering by the edge of the dance floor.

“I don’t suppose you’d indulge me in a dance?” he whispered teasingly in her ear.

She smiled coyly, a pleasant shiver running up her spine at his wicked smirk. “I thought you didn’t dance?”

“Ordinarily, no, but it this is our song.”

She laughed, the familiar beat of “Partition” pulsing through her bones. “Fine, but this better not just be your attempt at distracting me from Adha.”

He blinked, surprised. “You knew?”

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she led him onto the lit dance floor. “I guessed. I met her earlier. Charming woman.”

“Charming as a viper,” he replied, hand on her hip as they swayed to the music.

“Maybe, but I think she’s just hurt. It’s sad that after all these years she can’t get over him and move on. She beautiful and an heiress, so finding someone shouldn’t be hard.”

“Altair may have mourned her leaving, but I do not. Good riddance, I say.”

Her face turned serious. “Unfortunately, she might end up being a problem. Apparently, she’s King’s date tonight. This could make approaching him tricky.”

He swore quietly under his breath in Arabic. “I heard. Even when she’s not dating the Novice, that woman is making my life hell.”

“Why do you hate her?”

Giving her a spin and pulling her closer so there was no chance of being overheard, Malik replied grimly, “She brought out the worst in Altair. He was always arrogant, but before her he was at least vaguely responsible. Once she came into the picture, he was constantly running off, foisting his duties onto me and Kadar. And he got away with it, too, because Al Mualim was more interested in securing her family’s money than a few missed meetings.” His face twisted into a mix of sorrow and anger. “It was because he ran off to fuck her that Kadar and I had to take his place the day of the hit.”

Her eyes widened in horror and realization. Now she understood the bad blood. Adha and Altair’s relationship already didn’t sound healthy, but add in survivor’s guilt on one side and an insecure need for attention on the other…

Good lord, it was a miracle things were only that bad.

Maria shook her head, mouth a grim line of determination. “She can’t be on King’s arm all night. Perhaps we could convince Arno and Elise to distract her long enough for us to get to him alone? They seem up to her standards.”

Malik smirked slightly. “I knew you were a clever lady. We’ll set the plan into motion as soon as I can be sure I won’t attempt to kill her on sight.” The song ended, and he led her over to one of the quieter corners of the room. “In the interest of keeping my blood pressure from spiking further, let’s change the subject. Has Claudia succeeded in convincing you to model for her?”

Rolling her eyes affectionately, she took it upon herself to grab them a couple of passing glasses of champagne. “She’s certainly persistent. I’m surprised she hasn’t worn you down. That book came out what, six years ago?”

Grimacing, he accepted the offered drink, clearly wishing it was something stronger. “I did it as a favor. Her publishing company was just starting out, and that book was highly anticipated. Claudia’s spoiled, but sweet deep down, and I knew it would make Altair happy if I helped his baby cousin with her passion project. I’ve regretted it ever since.”

“Why? You looked good on the cover. I couldn’t even tell you were missing an arm. And despite her problems with boundaries, I’m sure she’d do everything possible to make you comfortable if you modeled again.”

“I—” he paused, searching for the words. “I had no problem with it, initially. The costume fit fine, the photographer was talented, and Claudia really needed the help. But the second the model saw my missing arm, there was disgust in her eyes. Then, worse, pity. She was very professional; didn’t say a word about it, but I felt how stiff she was every time I touched her. Like I lost my arm to leprosy, not an accident.”

The admission surprised Maria. “Surely women have seen you naked, though?”

“Most of the time, I prefer to have sex half-dressed, or in total darkness. Too many women find the arm a turn-off.”

“You don’t act like you have any trouble picking up women.”

“Picking them up is easy. The see the missing arm safely hidden inside the sleeve, and it’s no big deal. But once they see the stump, it’s like I’m less of a man.”

“Claudia doesn’t seem to care.”

He smiled slightly. “No, she doesn’t, does she? I suppose that’s her strength. She’s always like that; never caring what a body looks like, as they’re all beautiful.”

“Maybe that’s why she wants you to model; so you’ll see what she sees.”

“I’ve long accepted my lack of arm. It’s others who are uncomfortable.”

Taking a moment to consider, Maria pursed her lips in thought. “I’ll make you a deal, then; if you agree to model, I’ll be your partner. You know I don’t give a damn about your arm, and I’d feel more comfortable doing it with a friend than a total stranger.”

A small, warm smile came to his lips at the word “friend.” Another reason he infinitely preferred Maria over Adha and the other woman his brother had slept with; she bothered to get to know him, to become friends with those in Altair’s life. The novice really had chosen well. “I’ll think about it. You’ll just need to make sure your new boyfriend doesn’t kill me in a jealous rage.”

“I doubt he will,” she laughed. “He’d probably be more comfortable with you than anyone else. After all, he’s trusting you to keep me distracted from Adha.”

“He’s distracting both of us. He knew if I stayed I’d do something I’d regret.”

Smiling, she lifted her glass in a salute. “Well then, here’s to distractions.”

He chuckled, lightly clinking his glass. “Cheers.”

At that moment, Altair appeared behind her, making Maria jump. “Don’t sneak up on people!” she snapped, relieved she hadn’t spilled any champagne on her outfit.

“But I’m so good at it,” he teased, kissing her shoulder.

“I take it the situation’s been resolved?” Malik cut in.

“For now. Push her from thoughts, brother; we have more important matters to deal with.”

“Shall we begin the hunt, then?”

Altair’s eyes glittered with anticipation, bright and fierce like an eagle’s. “We shall.”

XXX

It was obvious that Richard King had been doing everything humanly possible to dodge Altair’s attempts to speak with him, helped by Adha’s chastised determination to avoid another confrontation. He’d been easy to spot, being dressed in a 12th-century crusader outfit, but it seemed every time Altair or Malik approached him, he’d conveniently excuse himself, or ensure he was surrounded by too many other people to pull him aside. Eventually, Arno and Elise managed to distract the woman long enough for Ezio to lead him away for “a quick chat about business,” only for the Italian to disappear into thin air once King had entered the study. Altair, however, sat on the couch, regarding him coolly.

“Mr. King, we need to talk,” he said, face calm but eyes determined.

The older, bearded man snarled at the sight of the Arab, immediately turning to leave, only to find Malik blocking the doorway. Glaring at the seated CEO over his shoulder, he growled, “I have no interest in talking to Al Mualim’s pupil, nor anyone else associated with your company.”

“This is important,” Altair replied, getting to his feet with leonine grace. “You’ve a traitor in your midst.”

“Really?” he snorted, gruff voice full of disbelief and annoyance. “Speak, then, so that I may judge the truth.”

“I have information the Templar Industries has been involved in several illegal activities.”

“Like what?” he asked sarcastically.

“Where to start?” Malik replied sternly, stepping around the Englishman to stand at his partner’s side. “Embezzlement, accessory to multiple counts of murder, and selling dangerous technology to North Korea, to name a few.”

This seemed to catch King by surprise, but his expression remained guarded. “Really? And here I could have sworn Templar Industries was a medical company. Clearly, my board members neglected to inform me of such a major change. Probably because such a thing is ridiculous.” His sneer returned, dark brown eyes full of contempt. “However, Creed International was built on warmongering, if I recall. Are you sure you’re not getting confused? Perhaps you’ve been at the hookah too long.”

“Our company hasn’t been involved with weapons in close to a decade, King,” Altair replied, refusing to rise to his baiting. “And even Al Mualim wasn’t mad enough to sell Project Eden to North Korea.”

Waving his hand dismissively, he stated, “Project Eden is a dead end. Subject 16 proved that. And even if your accusations were true, selling it to the Koreans would accomplish nothing; it’s a device for curing genetic disorders, not a weapon.”

“You forget, we were raised by the man who helped develop that technology. In the wrong hands, it could be used for torture, interrogation, and brainwashing, and that’s only what King outright told their military,” said Malik. “With less ethical restraints and enough funding and test subjects, there’s no telling what they could do with it.”

“And even if that weren’t the case, don’t you think someone trying to sell your company’s technology to one of the most volatile military powers in the world deserves some concern? Especially one that has killed a man?” Altair added through gritted teeth.

“Why should I believe a word you say?” King scoffed, crossing his arms stubbornly. “You’re both biased against Robert de Sable. Al Mualim worked to prevent our partnership, even trying to sabotage Templar Industries before it even got off the ground. And why wouldn’t he? He had considered having Creed International branch out into medical research, as well. Perhaps you’ve chosen to follow that path, and are attempting to splinter us so that you might eliminate some competition.”

“My concern is for the people of the world. If I must sacrifice my company, or even myself, for there to be peace, so be it.” He kept his voice level, but inside he was fuming. The constant reminders of the man who had raised him, who had started all this trouble, was wearing on his nerves. And he wasn’t sure if King was genuinely distrustful of him, or if he was simply being obstinate in the hopes of making him squirm. Either way, it was becoming infuriating.

“A noble sentiment, but what proof do you have of your accusations?”

“A video of him meeting with representatives of North Korea’s military,” Malik said bluntly. “Phone records. Financial reports. A compilation of the research done on Subject 16 and how de Sable was aware and approved of everything that was done to Clay Kaczmarek.”

Anger mixed with pain flashed across his face for only a brief second, before being forced down to his original scornful expression. “Robert took responsibility for that unfortunate accident and fired the doctor in charge of the whole thing. I shut down any further tests with Project Eden, and it’s been a non-issue ever since. As for the rest of your so-called proof, Al Mualim did his best to ruin Robert while he was in charge. I have no interest hearing the same song and dance from his protégées.”

“So you’d willfully ignore his crimes?” Altair snapped.

“I’m not ignoring anything. I’ll take your words into consideration, but I won’t believe anything until I’ve heard Robert’s side of the story.”

Watching from a shadowed corner of the room, Maria decided she was fed up with King’s stubbornness. Marching over to the group of arguing men, she finally inserted herself into the conversation. “He’ll do nothing but lie to you. This isn’t his word against Altair’s; it’s his word against hard, physical evidence. We have video and audio recordings, financial records, and eyewitness accounts. What more could you possibly need?”

King looked her over critically before giving a disinterested shrug. “I like to keep an open mind.”

“Clearly, as you’ve been so willing to hear Altair and Malik out,” Maria replied sarcastically.

“It is a difficult decision, one I cannot make alone. I must leave it in the hands of one wiser than I.”

“Who? Robert? God? You’re only being this stubborn because of an age-old grudge with a dead man,” she snapped. “Had anyone else brought you this evidence, you would have taken these accusations seriously and immediately began an internal investigation. Instead, you’re attempting to defend a man who would stab you in the back the second he got the chance. If this is how you handle business, Mr. King, perhaps it’s time that you retire. I can’t imagine all the opportunities you might have lost because of it.”

He stared at her, mouth a stern line but eyes considering. Altair and Malik, meanwhile, were doing their best not to let their jaws drop. They had hoped to handle the situation calmly, without devolving into name-calling or an argument, yet clearly Maria had other ideas.

“Who are you to speak to me as such?”

Maria knew how this had to look. Dressed in a revealing belly dancer outfit, having been draped on Altair’s arm much of the night, and probably only recognized from those irritating tabloid photos, there was no way a man like Richard King was going to take her seriously. Really, she was only there to give her eyewitness statement of Robert’s actions once Altair had convinced him to believe the man was plotting against him. Furthermore, she doubted he remembered her from the times she’d been with Robert, as he’d typically looked right through her.

But she was not going to let one stubborn man stand in the way of justice.

Head held high, she met his eyes with hers, gaze unrelenting as steel. “Maria Thorpe, Robert’s former executive assistant.”

“Former? Then how do I know you’re not simply trying to ruin his good name due to a petty grudge of your own?” he asked, a sly smirk quirking his lips. “Are you a jilted lover? I have heard he was sleeping with his assistant.”

Fist clenching, Altair resisted the urge to strike him for such a comment. Maria had thrown her own hat into the ring, and he’d let her handle things her way. Besides, breaking the man’s jaw was likely not going to help them achieve their goal.

It would sure make him feel better, though.

Meanwhile, Maria responded to the insult with a blasé shrug. “You can think what you like of me, but that doesn’t change the fact that we are presenting you with real, physical evidence of Robert’s guilt. He confided in me many times his displeasure at you stonewalling Project Eden, and that he hated how Templar Industries was financially beholden to you. In fact, he had sent me down here to convince Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad to partner with him so that he could use his resources to persuade the board to replace you.”

“And he trusted a mere assistant with such an important job?”

Despite his condescension, she didn’t even flinch. She was once again in her element, stating cold, hard facts to convince arrogant men to _listen to her_ and realize what the best course of action was. “He needed me out of the way, as he knew I would never stand for any partnership with North Korea. You mentioned that Robert took responsibility for Clay Kaczmarek? That was only because I forced his hand. He’s continued to work with Dr. de Naplouse behind everyone’s backs, secretly funding Project Eden with the company’s retirement funds. And I refuse to allow your stubbornness to keep Robert from getting the justice he deserves.”

“You expect me to believe such outlandish tales?”

“You knew Robert even longer than I. Project Eden was his life’s work; his magnum opus. And you forced him to hide it in the shadows, to keep it from reaching its full potential. Is it really so hard to believe his ill intentions?” She saw a hint of hesitation in the hard lines of his face and ruthlessly pressed on, refusing to lose her advantage. “Either you take these accusations seriously and launch an investigation, or I will release this information to the press, along with the fact that you were informed of Robert’s crimes, yet did nothing. Considering how he may very well end up being tried as a traitor and a war criminal, I can’t see that turning out well for you, or Lionheart Enterprises.”

The room was dead silent, the air oppressive as Maria, Malik, and Altair awaited King’s response.

Finally, he let out a booming laugh. “For a woman, you’ve got balls! Show me your proof, Miss Thorpe. If he truly has betrayed me, I’d like to have every speck of evidence available to ensure he’s brought to justice.”

Smiling serenely, Maria beckoned him over to the desk, where the laptop with Desmond’s video waited. Behind them, the two Syrians shared relieved and proud glances before following them.

 _Had she been working for anyone but de Sable, I can imagine she would have convinced us to sign that deal within a day,_ Malik thought, making a mental note to find a way to get her to join him in contract negotiations.

“By the way, Miss Thorpe, if you’re looking for a new job, you’re more than welcome to come work for me,” King said with a grin. “I happen to be in the market for a new executive assistant myself, and smart, determined women like you are always welcome at Lionheart Enterprises.”

Altair froze, throat closing in dread. He hadn’t anticipated this. An offer from Richard King was nothing to scoff at. The man ran one of the most successful companies in Europe, and if Maria wanted a job back in England, there was no better place. He could argue that London still wasn’t safe for her, but he knew she’d hear it for exactly what it was; an excuse to keep her with him.

With barely a heartbeat of hesitation, Maria answered, “I appreciate the offer, Mr. King, but I find I’ve grown rather tired of being someone’s assistant.”

The large Englishman chuckled. “Fair enough. Do you plan on returning to London?”

Glancing over her shoulder, she gave Altair a warm smile. “No, I don’t think so. I’m so far from England already, I think I might travel a bit. To India, perhaps. But for now, I think Dubai suits me just fine. I could almost consider it home.”

Heart fluttering in his chest, Altair silently vowed to ensure it stayed that way.

XXX

Despite his initial distrust, once King had seen the video and reports, he’d immediately left the room to make some phone calls. Altair wasn’t sure if he was more anxious to call his board members or the authorities, but either way he was confident that King would ensure that Templar Industries was no longer under de Sable’s control.

Best of all, Maria had basically confirmed she would stay with him. She’d gone off to speak with the girls, but he planned to find her again shortly. He was already planning all the things they could do together. Dubai held many wonders, but why stop there? He had no doubt Henry would be more than willing to put them up when they traveled to India. Or they could go to Cairo. He’d recently made the acquaintance of a man named Bayek who had told him about some of the ruins he’d been excavating. But he would definitely ensure she’d always want to return back to his mansion.

 _Perhaps I could get her a puppy,_ he thought with amusement. _A pharaoh hound would make a wonderful addition to our home. It could lie at our feet while we read in the library, or run alongside us when we go riding. I can already imagine it chasing after our children as they get into mischief._

He knew he was getting ahead of himself with such thoughts, but he found he couldn’t help it. Now that the last demon of his past was being taken care of, there was nothing to do but plan for the future. A future that, no matter what he imagined, had Maria at his side.

Pleased with how the evening had been turning out, Altair walked over to share the good news with Ezio when someone anxiously grabbed his shoulder. Instinctively he stiffened, but relaxed when he realized it was just Leonardo.

“Leo. Enjoying the party?”

The pensive frown didn’t suit a man dressed as the Renaissance painter he’d been named after. “We have a problem; I just got off the phone with Rebecca. Desmond’s missing.”

His brow furrowed. “Are you sure he’s not just off somewhere with Lucy?”

“Lucy hasn’t heard from him since before his shift at Templar Industries started. He hasn’t been answering anyone’s calls, nor is he at their apartment.” His face turned even more worried. “There’s been no sign of de Sable, either.”

“Why was I not informed sooner?” he snapped.

Ezio cut in before Altair could turn the full extent of his anger on his best friend. “We only just got word. Shaun didn’t want us to panic if it turned out to be nothing, but he’s now been out of contact for over twelve hours.”

“Fuck!” Fear, anger, and frustration fought within him. Thankfully, years of dealing with tricky situations had taught him to push such feelings aside in a crisis, allowing him to think clearly. “Let the others know that we have a situation. Tell Rauf and Niccolo to increase security; I don’t care if the guests notice anything. If de Sable’s discovered us, we can’t risk him coming here and harming innocents. Do you have a way to trace either of them?”

Leo twisted his hat in his hands nervously. “Ordinarily I’d track their phones, but I’ve gotten nothing so far.”

Ezio too worked to keep down the fear that was threatening to erupt from within him. Desmond was no weakling, but he was far from their best fighter. And considering how he’d been the one to get the boy into their less-than-legal activities, he found himself being oddly protective of him. “Desmond went into work to clean out Maria’s desk and remove our bugs from the office before they could be discovered. Is it possible to track those?”

Leo rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It’s a long-shot, but yes. If Desmond has the receiver on him, I should be able to pinpoint its location.”

“Then do it. I want him found by the end of the night.”

Nodding, Leo ran off to the security room, where he knew Niccolo would have at least a couple computers set up with the capabilities of tracking the bug’s signal, along with a phone so he could call Rebecca. Altair and Ezio stayed behind, cautiously observing the room.

“We need to warn the others,” the Syrian stated. “If we’re attacked, I want Arno, Elise, Connor, Claudia, Henry, and Aveline on crowd control. Tell them to get the party-goers downstairs. The basement doubles as a bomb shelter; if he’s called in the Korean military, we can’t discount an attack from the air.”

“And the others?”

“If it’s an attack from the ground, you, Edward, and Evie up in the windows acting as snipers. Myself and the others will take down anyone who attacks the crowd directly. Now get moving!”

Ezio turned to relay his cousin’s orders, when a horrified thought made him freeze. “Altair, where’s Maria?”

XXX

Looking to steal a few minutes to herself, Maria had snuck away to the backyard. It seemed the party guests had respected Altair’s wishes to keep the affair contained to the ballroom and front garden, as it was practically deserted, with only a couple guards milling about, who gave her a respectful nod before leaving her be. Rauf had informed them who she was and that she was not to be bothered, but they were to protect her with their lives. After all, there would be hell to pay if anything happened to Master Altair’s woman.

Despite the lack of party, the backyard was beautiful. Small lights dotted the paths, and she could see Faris, Lamia, Bonnie Anne and the other horses resting under the trees. It seemed that Altair had chosen to give them a little party of their own, if the crate of apples and buckets of oats nestled around them were any indication.

 _Looks like he did his best to make the setting nice and romantic for Mary and Edward,_ Maria thought with a smile. Despite his protests, clearly her lover really did care for his odd group of friends.

Breathing in the fresh evening air, she leaned against one of the pillars by the pool, relishing the feel of cool stone against the bare skin of her back lower back. The party was scorching from the combined body heat of the party-goers, and she was suddenly less critical of the skimpy excuses for costumes many of the women had worn.

Looking up at the full moon, she was grateful for the solitude. The garden had too many party-goers, and she didn’t want Altair thinking she was attempting to entice him into an early bedtime, so her room was out of the question. She just needed some peace and quiet to collect herself. Just a few minutes alone, then she’d rejoin the party and celebrate with the others.

Robert would be brought to justice. King would see to that. Her old boss had no power over her anymore, leaving her free to do whatever she wanted.

So what did she want? Did she want to stay in Dubai, or did she wish to explore the world that had once called out to her inner adventurer, before time and cynicism had crushed those dreams? Would Altair join her? She found she rather liked the idea of him accompanying her on her journeys. After that, she had no idea. She was sorely tempted to give Claudia’s offer a try, especially if it might help Malik deal with his lingering insecurities regarding his missing arm. Or perhaps she could take a job at Creed International, provided she made it clear that she would be given a position based on her professional merits, and not how much she could take in bed.

For the first time since Clay, she had no idea what she wanted to do with her life, yet this time she found it more exciting than a cause for concern.

 _I hope you’re proud of me,_ Clay, she thought with a sad smile, looking at the way the moon reflected on the water. _We never got our date, but at least I got you justice. No one else will suffer at Robert’s hands._

“Well, don’t you look lovely?” came a familiar voice behind her, causing icy fear to roll down her back. “I should have sent you down here in that. You’d have gotten that signature by sundown.”

Spinning around, Maria stared at her old boss in shock. He was dressed impeccably, as usual, his Hugo Boss suit tailored to fit his broad shoulders and tall frame with nary a wrinkle or loose thread. His dark eyes were even more intense in the moonlight, and she immediately felt her heart speed up. “What the fuck are you doing here, Robert?”

He smiled at her, but it held no warmth. “Such language. Is that really how you greet your boss?”

Maria stood her ground and glared at the Frenchman, hoping the guards were near enough to notice the commotion. “I don’t give a fuck what you think of my language. I demand you tell me what you’re doing here.”

“I came to collect my executive assistant, of course. It seems we won’t need Ibn-La’Ahad’s cooperation after all.”

“And why is that?” she asked, attempting to fish her phone out of her skirt and turn it on behind her back. Her sweating, trembling hands were making it difficult, however, and she couldn’t risk drawing his attention.

Luckily, he was too focused on her face to notice her hands. “We have a new partner. One that will put Project Eden back on track.”

“That’s lovely, though I’m not quite sure why that necessitated you flying down to Dubai to tell me. A simple phone call would have sufficed. Then again, considering how I quit, I don’t see why you’re telling me at all.” Finally turning her smartphone on, she fiddled with the touch screen, silently cursing modern phones and their lack of buttons. For all she knew, she’d just opened her calculator app.

Still, her heart soared when, after a few taps, she heard the faint sound of a phone ringing, and Rauf’s deep, reassuring voice answering. Instead of responding, she hit what she hoped was the speaker command.

Robert shook his head, _tsking_ as if she were a naughty child. “Maria, you know you can’t quit. Templar Industries depends on you.”

Maria heard a whispered “Fuck!” through the receiver, and held her ground, hoping to stall for time while Rauf found her. “Even if that were true, I don’t see why you’re here, in Altair’s backyard,” she said, raising her voice just enough to ensure Rauf had heard her. “You know his security team will be on you at any moment.” _At least I hope so,_ she thought, glancing about. Rauf was on his way, but shouldn’t the men who’d been patrolling the yard have noticed something by now?

Noticing how she glanced about, Robert chuckled coldly. “My new associates can be quite efficient when they put their minds to it. Not always subtle, but it seems they did the job right this time,” he said with a dark smile, taking a deliberate step forward. Without thinking, Maria took one back, unwilling to allow the man to get any closer to her than necessary.

“I’m surprised you didn’t have your new friends storm the place,” she growled. She needed to stall for time while Rauf got there. If Robert had truly taken out the guards in the yard, he wasn’t there for an idle chat, and was more dangerous than she’d expected.

“Oh, they will, once I get what I came for.”

“Which is?”

“Please, Maria, don’t act stupid. It doesn’t suit you. I admit I’ve taken your intelligence for granted in the past, but I have no intention of making that mistake again.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You didn’t really think that I was going to leave without my secretary, did you? Frustrating as you can be at times, I simply can’t imagine another woman at my side.”

Clenching her fists, Maria stared him down. “Robert, I want to make something unmistakably clear; I don’t work for you. You never deserved whatever feeling I had for you, and now that I know what kind of monster you really are, I’m going to tell the world exactly what you’re doing, what you’ve done, and especially what really happened to Clay. And then I am going to spend every waking moment helping Altair and Malik legally and physically bitch-slap you even if it means both our asses end up in jail. Because there is no way in hell I’m letting you hurt anyone ever again!”

Robert stood there, staring at her, eyebrows raised slightly in surprise, before clapping his hands in slow, patronizing applause. “That’s quite the speech, Maria,” he acknowledged. “However, if you’re so determined to keep me from hurting anyone else, I suggest you cooperate. You wouldn’t want the death of poor Desmond Miles added to your conscience, would you?”

Her blood turned to ice as her heart stopped. “What have you done, Robert?”

“I’ve simply taken Altair’s little spy as a contingency plan. Now, unless you’d like me to send you his head as a wedding gift, I’d suggest you come with me like the good little pawn you are.”

Sounds of commotion from the back door reached their ears, and Robert held out his hand expectantly. “I don’t care for chaos, Maria. That includes unnecessary violence. Come with me, and Desmond will be safe. As will everyone at the party. I’ll even spare one of your new partners. Only one, though. I can’t let their acts against me go unpunished, after all.”

Doubt pierced her heart. Going with Robert was pure stupidity, but she couldn’t let anything happen to Desmond. Not after the risk he’d taken warning her. And what about all those innocent party-goers? They had nothing to do with this. They didn’t deserve to die.

Then again, if she left with him, no one would be safe. She was the key witness to his crimes, the linchpin that proved that documents implicating him had not been forged by men who otherwise would have gotten them through highly illegal means. She was the one that could explain his motives to the authorities. If he took her, the plan might not fall apart, but it was too big a risk.

And she sure as hell wasn’t going to let him escape to North Korea, even if it killed her.

Straightening her spine, she gave him a hard, level glare. “It’s over, Robert. If you turn yourself in now, perhaps they won’t charge you as a war criminal.”

He gave a dark smile. “Sadly, that would put a damper on my plans. And if you won’t come quietly, I’ll have to take you by force.”

“I suppose it wouldn’t be the first time, you bastard,” she snarled.

“Maria!” a voice shouted, and Altair appeared on the deck across from them. “Get away from her, de Sable!”

Taking the moment of distraction, Maria lunged forward, pulling back her fist and aiming a punch right at her former boss’ face. However, he managed to pull back just enough that her fist only grazed his jaw, causing him to grunt before wrapping a large, meaty hand around her right arm. Maria stumbled, hissing as his thumb pressed harshly into the purple bruise. Sensing weakness, he slammed his palm into her stomach, knocking the wind out of her and forcing her to double over in pain. Confident that he had her incapacitated, he wrapped his arm around her waist and dragged her against his chest.

“Don’t come any closer, Ibn-La’Ahad!” he called over to Altair, who’d been joined by Rauf, Ezio, Malik, and Jacob. Pulling out a small blade, he held it to Maria’s pale throat. “I’ve heard many of my former associates were found with their throats slit. Unless you’d like me to return the favor, I’d suggest you and your friends stay back.”

“Robert, you fucking coward!” Maria snarled once she regained her breath. She started to struggle, but the sharp sting against her throat, followed but the feeling of something hot and wet stilled her. Clearly, the man truly was willing to kill her if necessary.

“Can you shoot him?” Rauf whispered to Edward.

“Not without riskin’ hitting Maria. He knows it, too.”

“Let her go, you bastard!” Altair shouted, barely able to contain his rage. He’d kill him. How dare he threaten his Maria? How dare he use her as a hostage, hold a knife to her perfect skin? How dare he try and take her from him?

Robert de Sable had already killed Kadar. Altair refused to lose Maria, too.

There was a scream from inside, and the sound of gunfire forced the band of assassins to turn towards the house. Then a crash came from the yard, startling the horses and once again drawing the men’s attention.

An enormous, jet black SUV had broken through the wrought-iron fence and barreled through the manicured shrubbery and flowers, halting right beside de Sable.

“Well, gentlemen, it appears my ride is here, and you have some new party guests to entertain inside,” Robert called mockingly, forcing Maria inside the armored vehicle. “Don’t worry, though; I promise to take good care of Maria. She’ll be perfectly happy, once Project Eden is through with her.”

“Do you think he’ll hurt her?” asked Jacob anxiously, barely holding himself back from launching himself at the Frenchman.

“There’s no end to the cruelty of men threatened by strong women,” replied Malik darkly, though they could all detect the fear in his voice.

They could do nothing but watch as the car door slammed, Maria’s curses at her former boss lingering on the wind as the car sped off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did everyone enjoy the party?
> 
> So, while I was writing this chapter, I realized that, for all the hate Adha gets, I couldn't find anything she did to deserve it besides be Altiar's love interest in a game most people don't even realize existed. A game in which she dies at the end. Which, to me, is a problem, as it's very similar to how Altair/Malik fans or Mary-Sues demonize Maria, simply for getting in the way of their ship. And I'm not comfortable with that. So, while I did make her antagonistic, I hope maybe you'll feel some sympathy for her as well. If she has actually done something to deserve the hate, please educate me. I simply couldn't find a legitimate reason as I wrote.
> 
> I've got some work deadlines coming up I need to focus on, but I'll try not to leave you all hanging on that cliff for too long, lol.


	16. Darkness in the Heart, Shadows in the Moonlight

Even from the backyard, Altair could hear the chaos going on inside the house; indistinct shouting, screams from the party-goers, and the unmistakable firing of guns. Jacob and Edward looked anxious to rush inside to protect the guests and their brothers-and-sisters-in-arms. They were simply waiting for their leader’s signal. Altair knew they should all run hurry back into the mansion to take care of the soldiers. The longer they put things off, the higher chance there was of civilian casualties. He trusted the others to keep them safe, but he had no idea how many men de Sable had sent to attack the mansion. It must have been enough to overwhelm Rauf’s security team. He’d also be needed afterwards to prevent the guests from panicking, to answer police questions and ensure everyone got the help and medical aid they needed.

Despite this knowledge, his feet remained frozen to the ground.

His head told him to go inside, to help the innocent people who had unwittingly become hostages to a madman and his army.

But his heart was screaming to save Maria.

Was the life of the woman he loved worth more than those of a hundred others? Which would he be unable to forgive himself for the most?

Luckily, Malik took the decision of his hands, whistling for Faris, who bolted towards his master. Slapping his best friend over the back of the head, the one-armed COO gave him his signature glare, snapping him out of his conflicted stupor. “Quit wasting time and go after her! We’ll handle things here.”

Rauf frantically typed something into his phone. “They couldn’t have used the public airport, so they must be heading to the old military one. If you leave now, you can catch them.” Passing him the device, Altair took a quick scan of the GPS coordinates, plus the little moving dot indicating Maria’s phone location.

Looking uncharacteristically serious, Edward handed him two of the non-decorative pistols he’s hidden in under his costume. “I know you prefer close-combat, but don’t make the mistake of bringing a sword to a gunfight.”

Reaching into his pocket, Jacob also tossed him a few smoke bombs. “These’ll come in use, I’m sure. Don’t you dare fuck this up, Al,” he said with a glare, though genuine fear was shining in his green eyes. “Both Maria and Des are counting on you.”

Strapping the weapons to his belt and climbing onto the stallion without hesitation, Altair looked down at his best friend. “Malik, I know you think I’m being a fool—”

“Always, but right now? I think you’re angry. Which is what we need. Anger gets shit done. Just don’t lose your head.”

Rauf nodded towards the retreating SUV. “Even with that vehicle, the Koreans are not known for desert combat. The sands will make it impossible for them to stay off-road for long, so they’ll have no choice but to get back on the street. But you and Faris have done this for years. You don’t need roads. Go. We’ll join you once the situation here is under control.”

“Thank you.”

Malik forced a smile. “Go save Maria and Desmond. Then thank us.”

He nodded, golden eyes fierce and focused. “All of you, get inside and take care of our enemy. Be careful of the guests; they may be used as hostages. Stay your blade from the flesh of an innocent.” Clutching Faris’ mane and kicking his sides, he rode off into the desert at top speed, making a bee-line for the airport.

If Robert had harmed one hair on Maria’s head, he’d die screaming.

If the soldiers had killed any of his friends, he’d declare war on North Korea.

XXX

Relaxed in the back seat of the SUV, Robert looked over his companion appreciatively. The outfit was quite stunning; perhaps he’d dress her in a similar one once she’d been brought to heel. A red one, of course. “I must say, Maria, I’m a little disappointed in you. I had sent you to deal with Altair in my place because I thought you were smart enough not to fall for his charms. It seems the office was right about you all along.”

Maria shot him a death glare, disgust radiating off every inch of her body. He’d bound her wrists together behind her back with zip ties after she’d attempted to punch him again, and was now forced to sit beside him on the leather seats. “You disappoint me too, Robert. I never dreamed you’d be a sociopath.”

“Not a sociopath, _ma chatte_. Just a visionary. Those who wish to bring order to the world cannot allow themselves to be bogged down by trivial matters. The world is full of sheep needing to be led.”

“Templar Industries’ work is supposed to help people, not rob them of their liberty,” she argued.

“I put no stock in liberty. I seek order, nothing more.”

“Order?” she countered. “Or enslavement?”

“You can call it whatever you like, _ma chatte_. Haven’t I taught you that an ordered mind and life is the only protection one has against the chaos of life? I’m merely gifting the rest of the world that virtue.”

Grey eyes rolled while she snorted derisively. “By siding with North Korea?”

Nonchalantly, he shrugged. “A necessary evil. They may not be the most refined allies, but they respect my goals and are willing to help me achieve them. And Garnier says they’ve treated him like royalty since he started working for their illustrious leader.”

“You’re both sick, lowlife traitors!” she snarled, uselessly jerking forward as if she intended to attack him.

“I’m a traitor?” he asked, seizing her chin in a forceful grip. She winced but refused to make a sound as his strong fingers dug into her jawbone. “You were so close to being my perfect companion. Intelligent, beautiful, driven, and loyal. But you had to be weak, to give yourself over to that fool and now I must fix what he broke.” Squeezing tighter, he growled, “I trusted you, Maria. I made you the woman you are today, and how do you repay me? By siding with fucking Altair Ibn-La’Ahad!”

“Altair’s done more for me in a week than you have in five years,” she ground out, unwilling to let her pain show.

Regaining his composure, he loosened his grip slightly, though still firm enough to keep her in place. Gently, his thumb stroked her plush lips, and he found himself unable to look away from the fire in her eyes. “In some ways, I think I’ll miss that willfulness of yours. It made you very like a spirited kitten, one I’ve often longed to play with.” When she tried to bite his fondling thumb, he laughed, hold switching to her neck. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt, but firm enough that the unspoken threat was still there. Robert took a moment to admire her necklace. “I think Altair agrees, _minette_. He even put a collar on you. How long did it take for you to spread your legs for him?” Chuckling coldly, he kissed her cheek. “You’ve always had a weakness for men in power; you would have sucked me off under my desk had I ordered it.”

Longing to claw out his eyes, she growled, “Not a fucking chance.”

Pressing another kiss to her jaw, he said, “No? Your pride may have compelled you to reject my offer of a relationship, but you got wet for me at the slightest touch, didn’t you?” He finally released her throat to stroke her arm deceptively soft, much like he had all those times in the office. “You’re a lucky woman, you know. I’ve chosen you to be my personal companion in my new world. You’ll remain by my side, just as you always have, only this time you won’t have to hide your feelings. You’ll finally be mine, just like you wanted. Perhaps I’ll even let you bear my children. Just imagine the new generation of leaders we could create.”

Maria resisted the instinct to be violently ill all over her former boss. “Robert, and I say this with utmost sincerity, that even if we were the last two people alive, I would rather pleasure myself to the memory of Altair at his most insufferable than sleep with you.”

Face darkening, Robert grabbed her by the back of the neck and slammed her against the floor, pressing her cheek into the mat while his knee dug into the middle of her back. “I should show you your place before I put you into the Animus. It would be satisfying to humble you myself before Project Eden took away that annoying willfulness.” Leaning more of his weight against her, he murmured in her ear, “Assuming he’s not already dead, perhaps I’ll spare your little assassin lover, just so I can send him a video of our coupling. Tell me, which do you think he’d enjoy more; seeing you bound and fucked over my desk, or you on your knees, willingly sucking me off?”

“I think,” she choked out, “what he’ll enjoy most is slitting your damn throat!”

“I’m sure he would, but he’ll be too broken to do so.” Calmly he removed himself from the floor, grabbing her by the back of her top to pull her onto his lap. “Do yourself a favor and behave, _ma chatte_. It would pain me to have to kill you because you’ve become more trouble than you’re worth.”

“I’m surprised you wouldn’t leave it to one of your stooges,” she bit out, struggling to remove herself from his lap.

Her back stiffened in fear and disgust as one hand delicately stroked her throat above the necklace while the other caressed her inner thigh.

“Oh no, my Maria,” he purred, leaning in to place a teasing peck on her lips. “I’d reserve that honor for myself. Something you’re going to learn very quickly is that you’re my property. From your hot cunt to your life, everything about you is _mine_.”

XXX

Galloping over the dunes, Altair prayed he was making good time. While the SUV would be taking the longer route, Faris could only go so fast, and he knew his horse was tiring. They may have raced through the desert since the day the black beast was large enough to support his weight, but even the Arabian steed had his limits.

 **“Strength, old friend,”** he whispered to the horse. **“We need to save Maria.”**

He doubted the stallion understood his words, but the urgency in his master’s voice seemed to spur him on, giving him the will and energy to keep going.

Fingers buried in the black mane, Altair attempted to come up with a plan. The old military airport was not especially large, but it was big enough that he and a few other local businessmen had bought it to be converted into a private airport. As he rode he’d called the control tower, hoping that he could order the few security guards that might be there on a Saturday night to prevent any planes from taking off, but as the phone rang and rang, it was obvious anyone who might have been able to help him was detained or dead.

Altair was on his own.

Fear settled in his stomach. De Sable clearly intended to keep Maria alive, but what of Desmond? He had no doubt the French madman had his cousin, and that worried him even more. Was he still alive? Had he been tortured? What did de Sable plan to do with him? If he intended to put Maria through Project Eden’s brainwashing, he’d probably do the same to Desmond.

 _He’ll probably put Desmond through first as a guinea pig,_ he thought with a snarl. _Test it on someone expendable before subjecting Maria to it._

Stomach lurching at the implications of why de Sable would wish to brainwash Maria, he urged Faris onward. His beautiful, feisty woman would never stop fighting, but he couldn’t risk falling behind and letting his nemesis take away his lover and his cousin. It was his fault either were targeted, and it was up to him to save them.

He just needed a plan.

XXX

Tossing Maria into the front seat of the private jet, Robert gave her a smug grin.

“Sit tight, _minette_. We’ll be ready for takeoff soon.” With no more than another lingering glance he exited the plane, shouting off orders in Korean.

Wiggling upright in her seat, she looked around the plane. It was a luxurious private jet, lavishly furnished. The seats were soft leather and the buckles of the seatbelts were gold-plated. Bottles of champagne rested in ice buckets, crystal glasses and granite counters shimmering in the overhead lights. The floor was covered in plush red carpeting, and classical music was softly playing through the speakers.

She was happier to realize that, aside from the pilot that had disappeared into the cockpit, she was apparently the only one aboard. _The rest of the soldiers must be with Robert, preparing for departure._ Cynically, she mused, S _omeone underestimates my ability to escape captivity_.

Then again, maybe he didn’t need to worry. Even if she got off the plane, it was surrounded by armed soldiers, then vast desert sands. Her stomach sank as she realized that his lack of security aboard also meant departure was likely imminent. They were simply getting the plane prepped, possibly waiting for the soldiers at the mansion to return.

Before she could feel too sorry for herself, a groan from the back of the plane reached her ears. Struggling to her feet, she sprinted down the aisle to find a bloodied and beaten man tucked into the last seat at the end.

Quickly, Maria assessed his condition. Hands bound behind his wrists with gleaming metal cuffs, he couldn’t have been older than 25. He wasn’t moving, but the shallow rise and fall of his chest brought her instant relief. However, that didn’t cool the anger that welled within her at his obviously beaten condition. His white hoodie was stained with rusty blotches of blood, his jeans were ripped, and there were a couple of long gashes along his temple. A nasty vertical cut across his lips looked fresh, and blood had clearly been pouring out of his broken nose not too long ago. It took her a while to see past the blood and bruises, but the unmistakably Syrian features made it obvious who it was.

“Desmond Miles, I presume?” she asked weakly.

Cracking a swollen eye open, he seemed to instantly recognize her. “Fuck. So that’s what he meant,” he choked out.

“Meant what?” she pressed gently.

“‘Getting back what’s mine.’ Asshole’s taking us to be his new guinea pigs.”

“So I gathered. How badly are you injured?”

Shifting slightly, Desmond groaned a bit. “Didn’t break my legs or anything, but I’ve got enough bruises that escaping is gonna be a bitch.”

An idea popped into her head. “But you can move, right? You won’t have to go far, but subduing the pilot will be easier with two bodies rather than one.”

Despite the obvious pain it brought him, he turned his head to give her a bewildered look. “Are you fucking serious?”

“As a heart attack. If we can sabotage the plane, we can buy some time until Altair and the others get here.”

He laughed weakly. “Assuming he does. Dude’s badass, but de Sable sent a whole damn squadron to the house. Even with the others, there’s no way Altair’s getting to us in time.”

“Don’t underestimate how far that man will go for his loved ones. Or how much he hates Robert.” She gave him a level stare. “And don’t underestimate me. Whether you can help me or not, I’m not going to just sit around and wait to be rescued.”

Seeing the determination in her eyes, Desmond slowly struggled to his feet. “We can’t do shit with our hands tied.”

“You can’t tell me that you never learned how to break out of restraints. What kind of spy are you?”

“I’m not a spy, I’m a bartender.”

“Bartenders don’t infiltrate million-dollar pharmaceutical companies and bug their boss’ office,” she quipped dryly.

That earned her a slightly more genuine laugh before his gaze turned serious, critically studying the restraints around her wrists. “My handcuffs are going to be tricky, but luckily your old boss made the amateur mistake of tying your hands with zip ties.”

“Oh?” she asked, raising an eyebrow curiously.

“Crouch down and slip your hands behind your knees. Then sit and put your legs through your arms,” he coached.

Following his instructions, Maria smiled when her hands were once again in front of her.

“Good. Now tighten them as much as you can, then slam your elbows against your hips.”

Nodding, she grabbed the end of the tie with her teeth and pulled it as tight as she could. Once satisfied that it couldn’t get any tighter, she jerked her arms back, slamming her elbows into her hipbones. There was a very mild pain, but she was pleased to see her restraints instantly snap.

“Perfect. Now to deal with my problem. Don’t suppose you’ve got a lockpick?”

She reached into her hair, pulling out a thin, jeweled pin. “Will this work?”

“You tell me,” he said, turning his back and jerking his wrists. “I can’t see shit, so you’re the one who’s gonna have to pick the lock.”

Not bothering to respond, Maria immediately put all her focus into undoing his handcuffs. Ten excruciating minutes later, however, she’d gotten nowhere. Sweat trickled down her brow at each failed attempt, and nerves made her hands tremble slightly, causing her to grow frustrated as she dropped the hairpin.

“Relax,” Desmond croaked out. “Don’t rush; just concentrate on the lock.”

“Bit hard to relax when our captors could return at any moment,” she whispered harshly, trying again.

“Hey, this was your idea.”

“Not helping, Desmond.”

“The only way I’m helpful steadying nerves is by making drinks.” He was quiet for a moment, thinking. “Tell you what, we get out of here, I’ll make you a Shirley Templar.”

“A what?” she asked, bemused.

“It’s a drink I came up with. It’s like a Dirty Shirley, but way more alcohol. Taught Connor how to make it, last time he visited. Claudia and Aveline really like ‘em.”

She smiled, keeping her attention on the handcuffs, faintly noting that her hands weren’t shaking so much anymore. Perhaps Desmond was better at calming nerves than he’d given himself credit for. “I think I’ve had one. Connor made me a drink when we met last night. It was good.”

“Just wait until you try mine. Connor puts too much thought into making drinks. An expert like me can do it in his sleep,” he said with a cocky grin.

“Then what made you turn to janitorial services and corporate espionage?” she asked. The sound of his voice was oddly soothing, allowing the tension in her hands to gradually melt away.

He shrugged, though the position of his arms and the bruises made him visibly wince. “It pays better than bartending. Fewer drunken assholes, too.”

“That’s it?” She was a little disappointed. Considering the speech he’d given her about being Templar Industries’ moral center, she’d thought his reasons would be a little more…noble.

Hesitating, Desmond replied, “It was, at first. The team and I did a little spying, lifted some files, hacked a few databases, and everything was good. Sure, helping take down crime rings and insane rulers was neat, but all I cared about was getting paid. Then Altair asked us to infiltrate Templar Industries. In a few short months, my life changed forever. I know my easiest days are behind me, but I don’t want them back—not now.” When she didn’t respond, he continued, “Clay was part of my team. Rebecca couldn’t get past the firewalls, so he volunteered to become a test subject to get close enough to manually plant a virus that would get her into the system. His depression made him a shoe-in. Altair had warned us about the research, but none of us had any idea they’d fuck him up so badly.”

“Robert and Garnier ran a completely different experiment than what was outlined. There was nothing you could have done,” she said sadly.

“I know, but that doesn’t make it any easier. What sucks is that I couldn’t even go to his funeral. None of us could. If they saw us, it could fuck up the plan; couldn’t let anyone realize the new janitor had a connection to Subject 16,” he said bitterly.

“Is that why you cared so much that I went?” she asked, glancing up from her work.

“Yeah. It meant a lot, even though you’d just met him. Meant even more that you defied de Sable in the process.”

Maria’s lips curved into a triumphant smile as she heard a tell-tale click, the handcuffs slipping off Desmond’s chaffed and bloody wrists. He groaned with relief as he was finally able to move his arms, stretching them out as much as his bruised shoulders would allow.

“I don’t suppose you’d have any advice for sabotaging a plane?”

Determination in his brown eyes, he grabbed the discarded cuffs and slowly limped down the aisle. The carpeting muffled their steps, and the music drowned out their whispers. “Fucking up a plane’s easy. It’s the pilot I’m worried about. There’s no way he doesn’t have a gun.”

“But would he risk firing it inside the cockpit?”

Desmond smirked as he grabbed a champagne bottle, shaking it hard. “Maybe. But I think I just came up with an idea on how to take him out.” Stepping in front of the cockpit door, he whispered, “Grab the handle. On three, open it.”

Silently she nodded, curious as to what he planned to do.

Bracing himself, Desmond held the bottle like a rifle, thumb on the pin. “One...”

She grabbed the handle tightly.

“Two…”

Her thumb settled on the latch.

“Three!”

Yanking the door open, she heard a man shout in Korean as Desmond popped the bottle of champagne. The cork nailed the pilot in the eye, the bubbly liquid further blinding him. Using the distraction, Desmond rushed forward, bashing the bottom of the bottle into the man’s skull, sending him to the floor with a sickening crack, blood slowly pooling around his head. Not leaving anything to chance, he cuffed the pilot’s hands behind his back.

Breathing heavily from the exertion the attack had taken on his beaten body, Desmond gave her a wry grin. “See? Bartender. I know my way around alcohol.”

Unable to hold back a grin of her own, Maria replied, “In that case, why don’t you show me what a bottle of champagne will do to the control panel of a private jet?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

XXX

Clearing the fence into the old military airfield had been child’s play for Altair, and he secretly wondered if that was why it had been decommissioned. It wasn’t a large base, but it was clearly in the middle of reconstruction. A smattering of bulldozers, dumpsters, crates, and armored vehicles cast shadows under the bright spotlights, giving him a handy hiding spot as he snuck towards the runway.

Crouched behind a car, Altair breathed a sigh of relief. He’d left Faris a half-mile or so back, making the rest of the journey on foot, valuing stealth over speed and unwilling to needlessly risk his exhausted horse. But de Sable was still there, ordering his men about as they refueled the planes, so he hadn’t arrived too late. Surveying the area, he was displeased to find that there were at least two dozen soldiers milling about. Still, it was less than he’d expected, all things considered.

 _Probably sent most of them to the mansion to take care of little old me,_ he thought wryly.

He then noticed another problem; there were more planes than he’d expected. He’d been sure de Sable would load Maria onto his personal jet, which meant locating her and possibly spiriting her away from danger would be easy. But instead of one private jet and some military planes, there were at least four identical, sleek, black jets on the runway, all completely unmarked.

Maria had to be on one of them, but he couldn’t risk sneaking onto each one to check. They must have been brought from Korea, yet each certainly couldn’t have fit more than fifteen soldiers. Then again, the comfort of their soldiers likely wasn’t a necessity, so if they removed the seats and stereo systems, they could fit roughly twenty-five per jet. Robert, of course, would be afforded every luxury, so he wouldn’t have to share with more than a few bodyguards and his captives.

He grudgingly admitted that it was a clever ploy. The Koreans were smart enough to use planes that looked like private luxury jets; it would have been easy for a flight controller to believe some bratty millionaire was demanding his pilot land in an abandoned airfield rather than deal with the crowds at the Dubai airport. The foolish, probably underpaid worker must have allowed the jet to land, unwilling to deal with a cranky, likely drunk businessman berating him over a headset. Once the plane landed, the soldiers easily stormed the place, and by the time anyone realized what was going on, it was too late.

Taking stock of his arsenal, Altair noted that he had two pistols with six shots each, six throwing knives, a long curved knife, his sword, and his hidden blade. He wasn’t as skilled at fencing as Malik, but with a traditional straight sword instead of a rapier, he could more than hold his own. He also had both his and Rauf’s cell phones, plus four smoke bombs. For invading a palace, he’d done more with less.

But this was a rescue mission. A single mistake could kill not only him, but possibly Maria and Desmond.

One of the soldiers wandered a little too close, and Altair ducked further into the shadows. He was dismayed to see him equipped with a semi-automatic rifle, meaning if he tripped up he’d be full of bullets before he could blink. Killing each soldier quietly and without drawing attention to himself would be tricky, but necessary if he hoped to get close to de Sable.

The pistols would have to be a last resort. He was a decent shot, but they were too loud, and he wasn’t exactly wearing a bullet-proof vest. Once a shot was fired, there was no going back.

The soldier that had wandered too close again passed and Altair’s arms shot out like two vipers, right hand clamping over the Korean’s mouth while his left released the hidden blade, burying it deep in his throat. As his quiet struggles slowly weakened, the Arab held him close, both to ensure he was unable to alert his comrades and to offer a few moments of comfort to the dying man.

 _No man should pass from this world without knowing some kindness,_ he thought grimly, closing the soldier’s eyes. Oddly enough, Clay’s death had taught him that. He’d only met the young man once, as he lay dying in his padded room, words written in blood all over the walls. Altair had just finished assassinating Talal and was on his way back into the underground tunnels beneath the Templar International building when he’d heard Clay’s mad pleas.

His heart clenched at the memory. It had been too late to save him, as his wrists were cut deeply and he was steadily bleeding out, but despite time being of the essence, he found himself sitting with the young man as he lay dying. Clay had mistaken him for Desmond, grasping his hand as tightly as his weak fingers would allow and thanking him for not letting him die alone. Once his heart had finally stopped, Altair had resumed his escape, but he found himself unable to fully treat killing with the same ruthless detachment he once had. When he told Rauf this, the former soldier had actually clapped him on his back, telling him how proud he was.

“I should not fear these feelings?” he remembered asking.

“You should embrace them,” Rauf had replied seriously. “They are what keep you human.”

So Altair still killed, but he did so cleanly, offering as much kindness as he could as his target died. After all, the soldier in his arms had not asked to be raised in a mad nation. He probably meant well. He was misguided, perhaps, but pure in motive. In another life, he might have been a decent man.

However, as he hid the body beneath the car and snuck off to take down the next soldier, his heart hardened slightly.

Robert de Sable would not receive such comfort, for he was no man.

He was a monster that had to be slain.

XXX

Pulling his sword from his enemy’s chest, Malik surveyed the room. The last of the assailants were dead, and the chaos was dying down, but there was no way to cover up what had happened. Blood was splattered across the dance floor, bodies were strewn about the room, and bullet holes marred the walls. It was just as much fortune as skill that the others had reacted so quickly, immediately ushering civilians to safety and taking out anyone who posed a threat. The soldiers had been tough, but they’d severely underestimated their opponents. The only thing that surprised him was the diversity of the squad; among the Korean soldiers was an assortment of Middle-Eastern, African, and Russian men.

“Fucking mercenaries,” Niccolo muttered at his side, holstering his gun. “I hate mercenaries.”

Malik sighed, looking away from is fallen foe to count the dead. Forty mercenaries and Korean soldiers had fallen, with probably a dozen more taken out outside by Rauf’s men. The casualties on their side were minimal, but several of the guests had been caught in the crossfire. He didn’t much care for the socialites and celebrities Ezio had invited, but it saddened him to see they had not all escaped without a scratch. However, he was pleased to see that his companions were already taking care of the situation.

Ezio was on the phone with the nearby hospitals, informing them of what had happened and ordering ambulances and emergency helicopters. Aveline and Elise had rallied the maids and were helping them bring out towels, bandages, blankets, disinfectant, and other supplies. Connor and Arno were tending to some of the wounded, using the first-aid training they’d developed dealing with revolutionaries. Rauf and the remaining security were doing double-duty of calling people’s rides and making a sweep of the mansion for any undiscovered enemies or panicked guests. Evie and Henry were comforting those who were in hysterics over what had happened. And Edward and Jacob had quickly set to work moving the dead.

Stomach lurching, Malik realized that he couldn’t locate Claudia or Yusuf. Eyes locking with Ezio’s, the Italian seemed to realize the same thing.

“Please tell me you saw them sneak off to have sex or something,” Ezio asked, phone snapping shut.

Malik shook his head, wracking his brain for the last place he’d seen the couple. “No. But earlier I saw them up on the balcony talking to a few other models.”

Running up the stairs, they desperately searched for the scantily-clad brunette and her lover. Malik prayed that Claudia hadn’t been involved in the battle; she could hold her own in a fight as well as any of them, but she’d been wearing next to nothing. She’d had no weapons, armor, or defenses. Yusuf would have been protecting her, but what if someone had harmed her while he was engaged with another opponent?

“Claudia, where are you?” Ezio cried out, voice welling over with worry.

“Over here!” Yusuf’s voice called, and the two men whirled around to find Claudia leaning against the railing while the Turk held a shredded curtain to her bleeding leg. Several bodies lay at their feet, most belonging to Korean soldiers. What shocked them, however, was the beautiful body of Adha lain out respectfully next to them, several bullet holes in her chest.

“What happened?” Ezio asked, kneeling beside his injured sister. He could see she’d been stabbed in the leg, and his heart clenched with fear.

“Some soldiers cornered us. Yusuf was able to take on most of them, but there were too many. I fought back, but one stabbed me in the leg. I thought I was a goner, until Adha—” her voice cracked, regret lining her face. “Adha jumped on his back and started clawing at his face, but she wasn’t strong enough. He threw her off and shot her.”

Yusef shook his head sadly. “Claudia used the distraction to slit the man’s throat, but it was too late for Adha. He got her straight through the heart.”

Despite his cold feelings for the woman, Malik bowed his head respectfully, giving silent thanks to her for sacrificing herself to protect Claudia. Whether it had been her intention or not didn’t matter; she’d saved Altair from the pain of losing another family member.

Ezio continued to fuss over his sister, propping a stray throw pillow behind her back and another one to elevate her leg. “The EMTs should be here soon. Yusuf, keep pressure on the wound. Did it hit an artery?”

Yusuf shook his head. “It seems to be just a flesh wound, but it’s deep.”

“I suppose my modeling career is over,” Claudia said sadly. “They don’t like women with scars, and my runway walk will have a limp for a while.”

Malik patted her head consolingly. “That just gives you more time to focus on Rosa Amore. Maybe you could try your hand at writing one of those books?”

She gave him a small smile. “Only if you promise to pose for the cover.”

Satisfied that Claudia would be okay, the Syrian dragged Ezio downstairs, where several of the others were anxiously waiting.

“What are we going to do about this?” asked Evie quietly. “Ezio invited celebrities, businessmen, and diplomats from all over the world. If word gets out that the party was attacked by North Koreans, it could start a war.”

“Do you think they would risk it?” Edward asked.

Arno looked nervous. “They may be small but they have nukes, a fanatic leader, and a trigger finger. They may not win, but they’ll leave a hell of a body count in their wake.”

To no one’s surprise, Niccolo was three steps ahead of everyone. “The world doesn’t need to know it was the Koreans that attacked us. This was all Robert de Sable’s doing. He was running off to sell brainwashing tech to North Korea and had hired mercenaries to attack the party, as it contained King, Maria, Altair, and others who knew about the research and might be able to stop him. The fact that several of them are, in fact, not Asian will help support our story. The Korean Government will likely support our story; after all, if they were truly ready for war, they wouldn’t need Project Eden’s brainwashing technology. Tensions will still be high, but war can be prevented.”

“Then we’re letting the Koreans get away with it?” snarled Jacob.

It was Malik who replied. “Hell no. We will deal with them later. Quietly. We’ll need to anyway, to eliminate any of the remaining research and prototypes. But for now, our priority is preventing World War III.”

Reluctantly, the Englishman nodded. Sneaking into one of the most militaristic countries in the world wouldn’t be easy, but it was the best plan for now.

“Where’s Altair?” Evie asked.

Edward answered, “Robert nabbed her outside, so we sent Al off on a rescue mission. We think the bastard may have Desmond, too.”

Rauf chimed in, having finished his perimeter sweep. “My cell’s signal is still strong, and it just arrived at the airport. If Altair’s going to start anything, it’s going to be soon.”

Connor looked around the room critically. “Altair may be in trouble, but we cannot simply run off and leave the guests alone. What would you have us do?” he asked, deferring to Malik’s judgment.

Dark eyes hard as obsidian, Malik pulled off his decorative coat, letting the heavy material drop to the floor. “Rauf, get us two cars. You, myself, Edward, Connor, and Jacob will help Altair.”

“I’m coming too,” Ezio growled. “Altair’s family, and I won’t abandon him.”

Rauf shook his head. “In most circumstances, I’d agree, but you’re needed here. See to the guests and take care of directing the EMTs. It will look bad if the host suddenly disappears.”

“To hell with that!” he spat. “Altair’s _famiglia_ , and I won’t abandon him! Connor should stay; his medical skills are vital.”

Frowning, Niccolo grabbed his shoulder, though it was uncertain if it was to calm his friend down or retrain him. “With the EMTs coming, Connor’s skills will be redundant. But if Altair, Maria, or Desmond is injured, he might be all that saves their lives.”

“Besides, Claudia may need you,” Malik added. It was a low blow, he knew, but time was of the essence, and they could not afford to be delayed by arguing.

Visibly deflating, Ezio nodded and handed Malik one of his hidden blades. “Take this. Bring them back. Desmond would never have been involved in any of this if it hadn’t been for me. I’m the one who insisted on the party in Altair’s home. If anything happens to them—”

Malik cut him off, unwilling to hear the Italian blame himself any further. “We’ll bring them back. I swear it.”

XXX

Robert knew something was off. The airport was far too quiet. He uttered a few words to the soldier next to him, who spoke into his walkie-talkie. Only nineteen voices replied, and immediately his men fell back to the plane, surrounding him like a wall, guns up, ready for their silent assailant to attack.

“Who dares interfere?” Robert called.

“Who do you think?” replied a voice from the shadows. Instantly the soldiers fired upon the area the voice had come from, only to be dismayed when they realized no one was there.

“That explains my missing men, though I’m surprised you’re here instead of taking care of the attack on your home,” Robert called. “What is it exactly you want? Vengeance? The woman? The boy?”

“Blood,” came the voice from a new side, and again the men fired, growing more frustrated when they realized that again, there was no one there.

Fed up with being misled, one of the soldiers crept over to where the voice had come from. After a few moments of searching, he turned around and held up a cell phone that had been placed upon a crate.

Irritated, Robert took the phone and snarled into it, “Aren’t we a little too old for games?”

“Kadar taught me you’re never too old for games,” Altair replied. “He was particularly fond of hide-and-seek.”

With that, the all the lights in the airport went out, leaving Robert and his soldiers in total darkness, only the light of the moon illuminating the runway.

“The control tower!” Robert shouted. “He’s in the control tower! Fire on that!”

Unfortunately for him, in his rage and panic he’d forgotten to switch back into Korean, leaving the soldiers confused for a few precious seconds. Realizing his mistake, he quickly translated, but by then he was certain that Altair had managed to get away.

A few of the men switched on flashlights, but the minimal light did little more than cast long shadows.

Hoping to goad the Arab into revealing his location, Robert spoke loudly into the darkness. “Would you like to know a secret, Altair? Before I left, your master had intended to use you as a test subject. You were brilliant but lazy. Strong, yet unwilling to do more than what was necessary. It was only my own goals for Project Eden and our ensuing fallout that prevented that. Ironic, isn’t it? That I, your greatest enemy, kept you safe from harm.”

Silently gesturing for a few of the men to check behind a forklift and a dumpster, he continued, “But Al Mualim did not need to use the Animus on you; you became what he desired all on your own. You may not wish to admit it, but you’ve become exactly what he always wanted to create with Project Eden; ruthless, driven, willing to kill, commanding, powerful. He must be so proud.”

Ducking behind the wheel of the neighboring jet, Altair ignored his comments, judging the distance between him and the clustered guards before tossing two of the smoke bombs. A thick cloud rose around the men, one of them panicking enough to fire his gun towards where he’d thought the bombs had come from.

Smirking, Altair heard Robert shout at in Korean. If he had to guess, the Frenchman had berated the fool for firing his gun into the smoke; it was far too easy to accidentally hit your ally than your target.

Altair didn’t have that problem.

Rushing forward, he dove into the smokescreen, taking down one that was close to the edge, letting him fall to the ground with a _thump_. Moving quickly to avoid detection, he located the silhouette of another soldier, flinging a throwing knife directly into his jugular.

Unfortunately, the soldier’s rifle fell to the ground, going off with a heart-stopping _bang_ and drawing his enemy’s attention. The soldiers opened fire, Altair rolling to the side just in time to avoid a swarm of bullets. The smoke was gradually starting to clear, so he took his chance to escape, using a nearby car for cover.

However, Robert was not stupid. Certain that his would-be assassin was near, he continued his taunting. “What was it about Maria that attracted you so? Was it her long legs, her tight ass? Or did you simply lust for what is mine?”

“Maria is not yours,” he growled instinctively, crouched behind the armored SUV.

Detecting his voice, three soldiers immediately fired on the vehicle, though it didn’t penetrate its thick shell.

 _Those soldiers must be getting panicked if they’re wasting their bullets like this,_ he thought sardonically. That didn’t mean he was in the clear. He was still outnumbered, and he didn’t trust using a gun unless he could get a clear shot and enough cover to avoid return fire.

Raising slightly, he could just see through the tinted windows two soldiers attempting to sneak towards his hiding spot. Pulling out the pistols, he formulated a plan in his head. He’d have to be quick, as he’d be open for a few seconds, but he had no other choice.

“She’s mine in all the ways that matter,” Robert countered. “She owes me everything; I saw the potential in a young woman fresh out of school. I raised her to a position of meaning at one of the most influential pharmaceutical companies in the world. I gave her purpose, ambition, and the skills needed to survive the male-dominated business world.”

“All at the price of manipulating, using, and raping her!” he snarled, rolling a single smoke bomb between the SUV’s wheels, encasing the two approaching men in the heavy fog. Leaping on top of the roof, he shot both men in the head simultaneously before jumping down to the other side, grabbing one of their semi-automatics and firing it blindly towards Robert and his men. There was a scream, and the distraction was enough for him to sprint another twenty yards to again duck in the shadows of a jet.

Catching his breath, he tallied his kills. There had been twenty-five soldiers, plus Robert on the base when he arrived. He’d killed six before their disappearances had been noticed. Two more had fallen during his initial attack, another two killed just now.

He cursed silently. Fifteen soldiers remained between him and Robert, assuming there weren’t more on the planes. He’d probably wounded a few during his blind shooting, but that would do little more than slow them down.

It stung Altair’s pride, but he desperately wished for some help.

Tossing over the last smoke bomb, the hidden billionaire used the provided cover to cross the tarmac, slicing another soldier across the chest as he ran past. Kevlar vests were useful for blocking bullets, but they were not designed to handle blades at close-combat. _Looks like bringing a sword to a gunfight is the smart choice, huh Edward?_ Altair thought wryly.

Coughing as the smoke again obscured his vision, Robert growled, “You know, despite you being a cowardly jackal, I can see why she fell for you. After all, we’re so much alike.”

Clenching his teeth at the insult, Altair silently prowled through the shadows, leonine grace and soft steps allowing him to creep closer and closer to the scattered squadron.

“She has a type, you know,” he continued, glancing about, searching for any hint of movement in the darkness. How did the man manage to hide so well while dressed all in white? “Strong, commanding men that can take control of a situation. Men who don’t let silly things like laws and others’ opinions get in the way of our goals. And we do both have something of a moral code; the deaths we cause are strictly necessary.”

Amber eyes glared between the small opening between two dumpsters. Resisting the urge to respond to the comparison with a long, detailed list of innocents the Frenchman had killed, Altair noticed that the soldiers were gradually fanning out away from Robert, more intent on locating the threat than protecting their charge. Noticing an opening not too far from his hiding spot, he continued his silent stalking.

The lack of reply didn’t dissuade Robert, however. “Well, I suppose that’s not exactly true. After all, how many unnecessary deaths have been your fault? Kadar and your mother come to mind.”

Altair froze mid-step, something clenching around his heart like a fist. Despite his instincts screaming at him to keep moving, he found he was unable to tune out Robert’s words.

Sensing the shift in the air, Robert smirked triumphantly. “Really, much of what’s happened is your fault. It was you that was meant to die in that car crash. If you hadn’t run off with that woman, Malik would still have his arm and little brother. Had you not picked off my associates one-by-one, instead killing me sooner, I would never have sought North Korea’s help. Even now, you chase after me instead of saving the people trapped in your home. Your selfishness and pride have caused the deaths of countless innocents.” With a dark, smug grin, he stated, full of conviction, “You should have died instead. Or perhaps never been born.”

Those words pierced Altair’s mind and heart more surely than any blade. Much as he wished to ignore them, Robert had managed to reopen a wound that had never quite healed.

It was a painful truth that he’d done everything to suppress, one that had given him many sleepless nights since he’d been old enough to understand that he was the reason for his mother’s death. They had whispered through his mind, tormenting him during his waking hours and dreams alike. It twisted his heart every time he saw Malik’s missing arm, or Kadar’s painting, or Rauf’s mournful expression when he thought no one was looking. It was the reason he became consumed by his plan for vengeance, why he had taken to running the company, indulged in women every weekend, trained and fought and planned until he collapsed; he needed to keep his mind occupied, lest it spiral down into an abyss of guilt, doubt, and self-loathing.

But now, with the proclamation that simply by existing he’s caused more innocents to suffer, Altair found that old, familiar pain rip apart his heart like Robert had shoved his hand into his chest. Hot, stinging tears filled his vision, and he wiped them away frantically, ashamed of his own weakness and stupidity.

 _What kind of man weeps during battle?_ Al Mualim’s voice echoed through his mind. _What a disappointment you are. Perhaps your mother died from the embarrassment of having such a worthless son._

 _If you hadn’t ditched out on your duties to be with that harlot, I wouldn’t have been sent in your place!_ Malik had screamed in the hospital.

With a smirk on his face and another sweep of his surroundings, Robert added, “At least take comfort in the fact that after tonight, no one else will suffer from your mistakes. Least of all Maria. She will be safe at my side, as I always intended. I promise to take good care of her, once Project Eden does its work.”

Altair’s mind, already wrestling with the guilt, pain, and doubt, was suddenly overcome by the singular emotion of pure, white-hot _rage rage RAGE_.

His target was in sight, and Robert had to die. Once dead, he’d be too busy paying for his sins next to Al Mualim, Talal, Maj Adin, and all the others he’d damned to Hell to keep talking. Vengeance was finally within his grasp.

Rage cleared his vision but clouded his judgment as he spotted an opening between the thinned-out blockade of soldiers, Robert’s back exposed. Hidden blade sliding out of its sheath, Altair lunged forward, eager for the man’s blood.

Robert whirled around and seized his extended wrist, halting the blade mere inches from his face, and Altair realized he’d been played.

“You know not the things you meddle in, Altair,” the Frenchman snarled, catching the other man’s fist as he attempted to strike him. “Your master may have been blinded by his ambition, but mine allows me to see the truth. The world is populated by weaklings and fools, corruption and injustice. I am working to correct that, to create a better world.”

“A world conveniently under your rule,” he snarled back, hooking his leg behind Robert’s knee, knocking them both to the ground. Much as it repulsed him to be so close to the man, Altair kept on him, burying his fingers in his suit jacket. The soldiers weren’t stupid enough to fire now; one stray shot could spell disaster, and even if they got Altair, that didn’t mean a bullet wouldn’t rip through him into Robert. So they had no choice but to stand back as the two businessmen struggled on the tarmac, anxious and hesitant to interfere.

They continued to struggle, but eventually Robert’s greater bulk became too much and grabbing Altair by the hood, he slammed his head against the bottom stair of the jet’s ramp.

The Arab groaned, stars filling his vision as pain shot through his skull. On reflex his grip on the Frenchman loosened, allowing Robert to pull away and flip him onto his stomach, his own knife to his tan throat.

Panting, Robert whispered in his ear, “Yes, a world under my rule, where I can have anything I want. Including Maria.” As the blade cut into his skin, Altair could practically feel the older man’s leer. “In fact, I intend to _have_ her quite frequently. Ponder that in Hell, will you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's play the "who hates Robert the most?" game!
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed. Let's see if I can keep up this pace. The end is in sight! Just a few more chapters to go!


	17. Hard Choices

Despite not being able to hear the commotion down below due to the thick hull and windows of the plane, the darkening of the airfield had caught Maria and Desmond’s attention as they sabotaged the cockpit. Rushing to the windshield, they peered outside, only just making out Robert and his men in the moonlight.

“What happened?” she asked, searching frantically for any sign of movement besides the soldiers.

“Altair happened,” Desmond replied, rubbing his raw wrists. “He must have gotten into the control tower and fucked up the lights.”

Wincing as the brief flash of firing semi-automatics illuminated the soldiers, she tried to locate her lover. “Does that mean he’ll win?”

“It means they won’t be able to shoot him so easily, but he’s still outnumbered.”

Resolve hardened her features. “Then we should help him.”

Desmond looked utterly horrified at the suggestion. “Are you crazy?”

“He’s outnumbered! If he’s here now, that means he couldn’t have gotten changed out of his costume. Do you know what he was wearing? He was dressed like a shirtless, Arabian warrior! There’s no way he’s armed enough or wearing protection. He’ll get himself killed!”

“We aren’t exactly dressed for combat either, Maria!” he countered. “And unless you’re packing a bazooka in your cleavage, he’s still gotta be better armed than we are. He wouldn’t go into this kind of thing unprepared.”

Thick smoke, only broken by more flashes from the rifles, clouded their view of the field. Frantically searching for any sign of a white hooded figure, Maria was mildly relieved to find that when the smoke cleared, the only dead bodies were the soldiers’.

“See? He’s got this,” Desmond said, though there was still a tinge of concern in his expression. “Those assholes can’t fire into the smoke without risking hitting each other. We go down there, he loses the one clear advantage he has.”

More shots were fired, pummeling an armored car. Maria watched as two soldiers slowly advanced before another cloud of smoke obscured them. When she suddenly saw gunfire exiting out of the smoke onto the Koreans, she found Desmond’s reassurances ringing hollow. After all, how long before Robert ordered them to take whatever shot they could, even at the risk of his own men? Her former boss certainly wasn’t above such a cold-blooded sacrifice.

Turning away, she made a beeline for the door. “One advantage isn’t enough!”

With quick reflexed honed from years of catching bottles and his cousin’s training, Desmond snatched her wrist in a tight grip. “There’s no fucking way I’m letting you go out there!”

Attempting to wrench herself from his hold, she snapped, “You’re not letting me do anything; I’m marching out that door and helping Altair. I told you I wouldn’t wait around to be rescued. If you want to be a coward and hide in here, be my guest, but I’m not going to just stand by while he gets himself killed!”

“I’m no coward!” he shot back, and the rage that took over his features, mixed with the dried blood and darkening bruises, made Maria pause. Looking him over carefully, from his chaffed wrists to his stained hoodie to the bruises visible through the rips in his jeans, she immediately regretted her words.

No, Desmond wasn’t a coward. A coward wouldn’t have taken on dangerous jobs for a cousin he barely knew, nor continued to do so after his friend had died so horrifically. A coward wouldn’t have risked calling her with warnings of her boss’ shady dealings. A coward wouldn’t have endured beatings and possibly torture from Robert’s men, only to ignore the pain so he could help her escape. And he certainly wasn’t a coward when he took out an armed North Korean soldier with nothing but a bottle of champagne and a pair of handcuffs.

Instead, he was a survivor. He knew when to keep his head down and when to get involved. He knew Altair’s limits and abilities better than she did, and knew when they would only slow the man down. He knew that without a plan, they couldn’t just run into the fray and hope to come out alive.

Calming down slightly at the contrite frown on her face, he let go of her wrist. “Look, Altair came to save you; if you get caught in the crossfire, he’ll completely lose it, and then we’ll all end up dead.”

“We can’t just leave him,” she said, fear straining her voice.

His brown eyes turned sympathetic. “I hear ya, but they have the guns, numbers, and training. We’re an injured bartender and a former secretary.” He shook his head, even as he patted her arm consolingly. “We can’t afford to be stupid. We rush out there, we’ll be causing more harm than good. Hell, we can’t even sneak around properly; those jingly bits on your skirt would give you away in seconds, and the beating they gave me seriously fucked up my reflexes.”

Grudgingly, she had to agree with his assessment. “I just can’t stand the thought of that fool getting himself killed while we sit on our asses.”

He gave her a cocky grin. “Have a little faith. He’s a tough son of a bitch. Edward told me Altair once scaled a skyscraper and took down ten guys with just a knife. Guy can sneak, stalk, and kill as easily as breathing, but what keeps him alive is his planning and ability to stay focused. So long as Altair sticks to the shadows, picks them off one by one, and keeps a cool head, he’ll be fine.”

Sighing, she gave a silent nod of agreement, and Desmond looked out the windshield to check on the situation, only to let out a string of truly creative cursing. “Or he could fucking challenge Robert to a wrestling match!” he shouted, exasperation and horror battling for dominance in his tone.

Dread weighted down her stomach. Altair was a skilled fighter, but Robert, despite his age, was remarkably strong. She’d seen him bench-press twice his weight when she’d visited him in his home. In close combat, Altair simply stood no chance. And she wouldn’t just stand there while the man she loved—yes, _loved_ , damn it—was murdered in cold blood by her madman of a former boss.

Grey eyes hard as steel, she ran over to the back of the cockpit, grabbing the large fire extinguisher she found in the corner. “Desmond—”

“Yeah, what I said about staying back? Fuck that,” he said, kneeling beside the fallen pilot. To his relief, his Kevlar vest was one that went over the head and strapped around, meaning he wouldn’t have to waste time picking the lock to the handcuff to remove it. Stripping it off the pilot, he handed it to Maria, who gratefully put it on. “Fair warning, bulletproof vests aren’t stab-proof, and vice-versa. And if they’ve got armor-piercing rounds or shoot you in the head, you’re fucked.”

“I’ll take whatever I can get.”

Grabbing the empty champagne bottle and the pilot’s gun, he asked, “You got a plan of attack?”

Opening the door, she replied, “Yeah. Attack.”

XXX

As a trickle of blood spilled over his knuckles, Robert felt positively gleeful. At long last, Altair’s death was at hand. It was remarkable just how _satisfying_ the sensation was. He’d initially been fine with his men simply gunning the fool down, but now that he could practically _taste_ his desperation, hatred, and fear, the Frenchman honestly couldn’t imagine having it any other way.

Everything he’d dreamed of since breaking away from Al Mualim’s authority was finally in his grasp. Recognition. Unquestionable power. An army under his command. The world bowing before his superior intelligence, strength, and charisma. The woman he’d forced himself merely lust after, unable to touch for fear of upsetting his delicate plans, finally in his bed, willing and submissive.

And the fact that Altair, the man who’d worked so hard to upend those goals, would die with that knowledge made it all the sweeter.

“Maria will have plenty of time to curse your name on our flight home,” he whispered, arm tense, muscles flexing as he savored his enemy’s pain. “But I’m not without mercy. I’ll make sure Project Eden erases every memory of you she has, so she can live a long, happy life at my side.”

Altair clawed at his arm, trying to get free, but Robert held fast. He found himself torn between strangling the Syrian scum or slitting his throat. Both had their benefits; strangulation would allow him to feel the life fade from his body as his desperate struggles gradually ceased. It would be so satisfying to experience a man who prided himself on his physical prowess grow weaker and weaker until he was nothing more than an empty husk. The downside was that he’d be unable to watch the light fade from the proud assassin’s eyes.

On the other hand, there was a sort of poetic justice to burying that wicked knife in his jugular, just as the Arab had done to his associates. Plus, it would allow him to get up and watch the man die at his feet, and the blood that would stain his hands would make a lovely visual for when he returned to Maria. However, that would inevitably get blood on his clothes, and he wasn’t overly fond of ruining his Hugo Boss suit any further.

While he made up his mind, Robert chuckled in Altair’s ear, “It’s funny; fucking Maria was originally supposed to just be a pleasant bonus to my master plan. Now, I find it’s the part I’m most looking forward to. So thank you, Altair; you’ve given me a new appreciation for my lovely secretary.”

There was an odd jingling sound, and bemused, Robert looked up, only to feel the impact of something metal and unforgiving bash him across the temple. The force of the blow, mixed with the white light blinding his vision as pain blasted through his skull gave him little choice but to drop the knife and roll to the side, clutching his face in agony.

Gasping for breath as his windpipe opened again, Altair chanced a look up and found his heart swelling with pride.

There stood Maria, like a knight in shining armor, her eyes like steel as she swung the fire extinguisher to bash one of the soldiers in the jaw, a sickening crunch echoing through the night as it shattered teeth and bones. She wasn’t alone, either, Desmond leaping off the ramp to smash an empty champagne bottle over another soldier’s head. Glass shattered, causing his victim to scream in pain as the shards dug into the unprotected skin of his face. In his other hand was a pistol, which he used to shoot another man straight through the eye just as he was lifting his rifle.

Taking the opportunity presented to him, Altair grabbed his bloody dagger and leapt to his feet, standing with his lover and cousin.

Desmond gave him a weak grin. “Hey, wassa matta you, Altair?”

Despite the gravity of the situation, he couldn’t help the corner of his mouth quirking slightly. “That’s racist,” he croaked.

“You’re racist.”

Unwilling to allow their enemy time to chat, a few of the guards raised their rifles, but Maria swiftly blinded them with the spray from the fire extinguisher.

“Catch up later, boys!” she snapped.

Despite their moment of respite, the guards were on them before they had a chance to formulate a new plan. Swinging the metal cylinder, Maria forced back an advancing soldier.

“We need cover!” Desmond shouted.

Thinking quickly, Altair grabbed Maria’s arm. “Throw the fire extinguisher into the crowd.”

“What?” she screeched in horror.

“Trust me!”

Though reluctant to give up her only weapon, she did so, heaving the heavy metal tube into the group of advancing soldiers. Quick as lightning, Altair drew one of his pistols, sending two bullets right through the red steel.

The effect was instantaneous, with the white spray pouring out, obscuring the squadron’s view as effectively as Jacob’s smoke bombs. Not wasting a second, the trio dashed across the runway and ducked behind a barricade of shipping containers.

Without even waiting to catch his breath, Altair pressed his mouth to Maria’s in a sudden, relieved kiss. “Thank you for saving me,” he whispered against her lips. “But it’s not safe for you out here.”

“It’s not safe for any of us,” Desmond muttered, watching Robert furiously order the soldiers about. It was only a matter of time until they were discovered. They’d only managed to put about a hundred yards between them before the gas had begun to clear, though they’d been clever enough to use the commotion to circle around instead of merely rushing to the closest cover. “Please tell me your car is just outside so we can make a quick getaway.”

Altair shook his head. “No car. I rode Faris. I was more focused on getting here quickly than how to get us out.”

“Great. And I’ll bet none of these assholes left the keys in the ignition.”

“Probably not. Our best bet is to hold out until Malik and the others get here.”

“Any idea when that will be?” Maria asked, licking her lips, savoring the lingering taste of Altair. She squeezed his hand, too, the physical proof that he was alive, that she’d gotten to him in time, allowing her pounding heart to ease slightly.

“No. I ordered them to protect the guests at the mansion before coming to help me.” Holding her shoulders, he gazed into her eyes. “You and Desmond need to get out of here. I left Faris about a half-mile east of here. Get to him and ride away. He should be able to carry you both.”

Her glare was sharper than any blade. “We’re not leaving you here, idiot,” she whispered harshly.

“I can—”

“Al, I hate to say it, but she’s right,” Desmond cut in. “We don’t even have a choice. These assholes are on high alert, and there’s no way she and I are getting out of here without being spotted. At least let us go out fighting.”

“Trust us, Altair,” Maria whispered, hand on his knee.

The warmth of her palm, so real and reassuring, caused a small smile touched his lips. Of course his passionate, fiery woman would rather die fighting by his side than run away. “We may be walking to our doom, Maria.”

“Yes. But we walk together.”

With a nod, he handed her one of his throwing knives and his sword. “It’s no fencing foil, but this should do.”

Maria tested the weight of the sword and nodded, slipping the knife into her skirts. “Time to put those lessons to good use.”

Turning to Desmond, he gave him one of his pistols and his knife. “I suppose Connor’s shooting lessons weren’t a complete waste.”

The younger man snorted. “Guess not. What’s the plan?”

“Keep moving, and don’t get killed.”

He gave a sarcastic smile. “You and Maria were definitely made for each other.”

Before either could respond, Desmond rolled out from behind the crates, firing at a car fifty feet away, setting off its alarm. With the noise as a distraction, he, Altair, and Maria sprinted in the opposite direction, taking cover behind a dumpster.

When the commotion settled, Robert called out, “You can’t play cat and mouse forever, Altair.” His voice was hard with fury and pain, clearly beginning to lose his cool after so many setbacks. “If you surrender now, I’ll spare you and your cousin. If you persist, I’ll kill you both, and mount your heads on my wall for Maria to look at every day.”

“I can’t believe I ever felt something for him,” she muttered under her breath.

“Don’t concern yourself with that,” Altair said. “Just stay low and keep to the shadows.”

Unfortunately, in the pale light of the moon, a glimmer of something wet caught his attention. Blood. A thin, scattered trail of his blood from the cut on his throat was leading from their last hiding place to the current one.

One of the Koreans had noticed it, too, shouting his findings to his companions.

“Fuck,” Altair whispered. “Move!”

However, as they tried to sneak away, things got worse. Apparently the North Koreans were not as foolish as they’d assumed. Without the trio noticing, one had made his way into the control tower, switching back on the power. Blinding light flooded the airfield, eliminating their cover of darkness.

They attempted to rush over to a more secluded hiding spot, but, having finally caught on to their tactics, the soldiers were already there, one slamming the butt of his rifle into Altair’s stomach, another bashing into Desmond’s back. The bartender went down like a sack of lead, the shock to his spine mixed with the exhaustion from his earlier beating causing him to briefly black out.

Before Altair could regain his breath, he was tackled to the ground, the barrel of the semi-automatic pushed mere inches from his face as two more men dogpiled him. Maria swung her sword, savagely piercing a soldier’s side, but before she could pull it out another bashed her in the shoulder, making her shout out in pain and drop the handle. He bodily restrained her, one arm wrapped around her arms and torso, the other around her throat.

With a slow, mocking clap, Robert strolled over, wincing from the lingering pain in his head. “Well, it’s about time. I can see why the North Koreans want Project Eden to make better soldiers. If it took them this long to catch you three, I can’t imagine they’re up to the task of conquering the world.” As the statuesque woman before him struggled against her captor, he found himself smirking. Cupping her chin, he gazed into her stormy eyes. “I should be furious, Maria. You simply refuse to give up. Yet I find myself admiring you more and more; once nothing but a plucky pawn, through sheer guts and determination, you have crossed the chessboard and become a radiant queen.”

“Don’t touch her, you filth!” Altair snarled, struggling against the men who pinned him down.

Robert spared him little more than a glance. “Watch what you say to me, boy. The only reason you haven’t been shot yet is because I’m giving Maria a chance to save your life.” Turning back to the woman in question, his smile remained while his eyes shone with malicious intent. “Would you like to save him, _ma chatte_? Then let’s make a deal; if you prove your allegiance to me on your knees, I’ll spare your lover and _Monsieur_ Miles, leaving them with little more than wounded egos and shattered kneecaps. If you refuse, I’ll have them both shot, right here and now.”

Her eyes widened as her heart seized. Exactly what he wanted didn’t escape her. “You can’t be serious.”

Regaining consciousness, Desmond weakly struggled against his captor but froze when he realized he was staring down the nozzle of a semi-automatic. “Fuck.”

“Not exactly, _Monsieur_ Miles, but close,” Robert replied mockingly, unbuckling his belt. “I’m only going to tell you this once, Maria. Get on your knees and submit to me, or else you can add their deaths to Subject 16’s on the list of men you failed to save. Is your pride worth your lover’s life?”

“Don’t do it, Maria!” Altair shouted, as more men were forced to hold him down. The fact that there was a gun pointing at his head meant nothing to him; even if it cost him his life, he wouldn’t let Maria degrade herself for his sake. He couldn’t bear being the cause of yet another loved one’s suffering.

Desmond seemed to feel the same way, pleading with Maria, “Clay wouldn’t want this.”

“Clay wouldn’t want you dead, either,” she whispered, averting her eyes and ceasing any sign of resistance.

“Good girl,” Robert said with a smile. He barked something to the soldier, who released her, allowing Maria to drop to her knees. “I knew you were a smart woman. Perhaps I won’t have to put you under Project Eden after all.”

Lips pursed, she unbuttoned his trousers, slowly pulling down the zipper. Altair and Desmond’s struggles in the background became louder, but she ignored them for the sake of palming Robert’s half-hard erection.

Smirking at Altair, the Frenchman carded his fingers through Maria’s hair. “So quick to obey. Are you actually interested in saving these fools, _minette_ , or are you just that eager for cock?”

Any further taunting was cut off when he felt a sharp pain in his leg. He looked down to see Maria removing the blade of the throwing knife from the skin of his thigh to place it threateningly against his manhood. “Neither. Here’s my counteroffer; you tell your guards to get the fuck away from Altair and Desmond, and I don’t cut off your cock,” she growled, metallic eyes burning into his.

“You bit—”

Another sharp pain cut him off as she tightly gripped his balls. “I’d suggest you watch what you say if you want to get through this in one piece, Robert. Call. Off. Your. Men.”

Face twisted in pain and fury, he barked out the order in Korean, and Maria was satisfied to see the soldiers immediately back off, several even putting down their weapons. Cautiously, Altair and Desmond got to their feet, the latter still looking unsteady from the blow to his back.

“Good boy,” she mocked, standing but not removing the threatening blade from Robert’s cock. “Now, I’d suggest you surrender before I turn you into a eunuch.”

“We could have ruled together, Maria,” he replied through clenched teeth. “I could have given you everything you ever wanted.”

For a moment, her eyes grew sad. “I wish that were true, Robert. But the only thing I’ve ever wanted from you is respect. If I haven’t earned it by now, there’s nothing I could have done to get it.”

Maria couldn’t tell if the spark that suddenly lit up his eyes was triumph, madness, or a bit of both, but when he smiled she immediately attempted to drive the blade into his manhood. However, Robert had used her moment of distraction to grab her wrist, jerking it away from his crotch and pressing it back towards her stomach.

Seeing his lover in danger, Altair leapt into action, kicking the gun from the last armed soldier’s grip and slamming his hidden blade into his throat. Desmond attacked a nearby guard, shooting one, but was dogpiled by three more, forcing him back to the pavement. His pistols slid across the tarmac, leaving him to defend himself solely with Altair’s knife.

Struggling against her old boss’ superior strength, Maria let out a scream as the tip of the blade pierced her torso through the Kevlar vest, crimson blood welling up from the wound, spilling down her side.

“If it’s any consolation, dear Maria,” Robert said, deceivingly gentle smile on his face as he pushed her own blade deeper, “you’ve certainly earned it now.”

“Maria!” Altair screamed, cutting through another soldier in his charge to save the woman of his dreams. He leapt towards Robert, hidden blade drawn, and with a strike comparable to a viper’s, stabbed the Frenchman in the chest.

With a snap, the hidden blade splintered against his chest, shards of metal flying through the air.

Robert laughed, even as he stumbled back from the impact. “You didn’t really think I’d come unprepared, did you?” he asked, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal black body armor underneath. Whereas the Koreans had been wearing standard bullet-proof vests, he had clearly chosen to don protection equally suited to knives. There was a sizable gash, however, where the hidden blade had struck. “I know your style, so I dressed appropriately. Though credit where it’s due, that little toy of yours nearly got through. Perhaps you should try again?” he taunted.

Before he could pull out his pistol, Altair was attacked from all sides, forced to drop the firearm and engage three soldiers at once. One managed to catch him behind the knee, knocking him down, and they latched onto their advantage, sending such a flurry of blows that Altair had no choice but to simply block what he could.

Collapsing to her knees, Maria grit her teeth as she opened her bulletproof vest to inspect the wound. The knife had torn through skin and muscle, causing it to bleed badly, but while it certainly hurt, it didn’t seem to have gone in deep enough to have damaged any major organs.

The relief was short-lived, however, as she heard a click above her. Robert was aiming the discarded pistol at her, shaking his head in disappointment.

“You’ve earned my respect, Maria, but you’ve also proven to be more trouble than you’re worth. Such a pity,” he said with a frown. “But I did promise to kill you myself, and you deserve that much.”

Maria closed her eyes, Altair’s panicked scream ringing in her ears. She wouldn’t allow Robert to see her fear. She was terrified of death, but damn it, if it was her time, she’d at least go out with dignity.

 _Altair,_ she thought, _I love you. I wish I could have told you that._

A shot rang out, and there was a moment of silence, as if the universe was holding its breath.

When there was no agonizing pain, Maria’s eyes snapped open, meeting Robert’s, who appeared just as confused as she did. Seeming to realize something, one of his large hands gingerly touched his side. When it came away red, he staggered back in shock, his suit slowly growing damp from blood as he let out an animalistic cry. There was a round hole in his torso, a bullet having pierced straight through one side to the other.

A horn blasted, and everyone turned to see a pair of cars crash through the security gate, Connor driving a dark green Mustang convertible, Edward standing on the passenger seat, gazing down the scope of a high-impact sniper rifle.

“Told ya I could make that shot, lad!” he bellowed as the sleek sports car sped towards the crowd of soldiers.

The wheels of the second car, the midnight blue SUV that had broken down the gate, screeched as it slammed into one of the soldiers attempting to retrieve his firearm, sending him flying. Hitting the breaks, Malik, Rauf, and Jacob climbed out, the Brit immediately coming to Altair’s aid, tossing two of the men down onto the pavement. Finally able to do more than defend himself, the Arab gave the remaining soldier a brutal uppercut before driving the last of his throwing knives into his jugular.

“You picked a fine time to arrive,” Altair quipped breathlessly, pulling the blade out of the mangled flesh before rushing to Maria, relieved to see her already getting to her feet.

“It seems we did,” Malik replied, placing himself between the soldiers and the couple. “We couldn’t let you take all the glory.”

“It’s not often you get to rescue a damsel in distress, after all,” Jacob joked, handing Maria a handkerchief.

“I’m no damsel,” Maria shot back, wadding up the cloth and shoving it beneath the Kevlar vest before tightly strapping the armor back on. It wasn’t the best way to stop the bleeding, but if they didn’t make it out alive, that would be the least of her problems.

“Wasn’t talking about you, luv,” he replied with a wink. “Was talking about your boyfriend and Desmond.”

The American stumbled over to them. “Shut the fuck up, Jacob,” he growled, even as he accepted the Brit’s pistol.

Connor and Edward joined them, the pirate cocking his own gun as Connor pulled out a tomahawk. Malik tossed Altair Ezio’s hidden blade earning a grateful nod as he strapped it to his wrist, tucking the throwing knife into his belt. Drawing his sword, Malik said, “Argue later. These men meant to kill our brothers and sisters, and our target is in sight. I will not allow this snake to slip away.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” growled Maria as Edward gallantly handed her his cutlass.

With a wordless battle cry, they charged towards the remaining soldiers. A few managed to retrieve their semi-automatic rifles, but Edward, Rauf, and Desmond’s precise aim dealt with them before they could even pull the triggers. With terrifying ease, Malik slashed the throats of two others, blade cutting the flesh so deeply he nearly took their heads off.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go back to competitive fencing?” Maria asked, swinging her saber to cut another man’s stomach. Falling to his knees, he screamed as he desperately tried to keep his organs from spilling out.

“Not sure that’d be fair, lass,” Edward stated, putting the poor bastard out of his misery with a well-placed shot. “Might as well ask people to compete against a hurricane.”

Another soldier, feeling especially brave, stupid, or desperate, had pulled a knife and was attempting to stab the blonde Welshman in the back. But Connor spotted the attack on his grandfather, practically flying through the air to bury the tomahawk deep into his skull.

“That’s my boy!” Edward laughed.

“I’m not sure my ability to kill people is what you should be proud of, Grandfather,” Connor replied.

“I’m proud of you for saving my life. The killing’s just a happy bonus.”

Jacob grinned like a maniac as he launched his grappling hook at a retreating soldier’s leg, the device smoothly shooting out and piercing the flesh, dragging the screaming man back.

“Told you grappling hooks are great!” he yelled, finishing his target with a shot to the head.

Rauf rolled his eyes. “Just don’t demand Leo make one for each of us.”

“I wouldn’t mind one, though,” Desmond replied.

Though initially lost in the chaos of battle, Altair noticed Robert staggering towards one of the armored SUVs. With a primal snarl, the Syrian gave chase, unwilling to let his target use the confusion to escape. Though exhausted from the battle, he caught up to the injured man, knocking him to the ground and flipping him over, glares meeting as he readied the hidden blade. This time, he wouldn’t bother with the heart; the man clearly didn’t have one.

“Convince me to spare you,” Altair snarled, golden eyes sharp and hateful.

Grabbing his belt and pulling him closer, Robert sneered back, “Why? Isn’t this what you wanted? Murder me in cold blood, boy. I’d do the same to you.”

The words made Altair stay his blade. Killing Robert now would be so easy. It was justified, the man had threatened his friends, family, and true love. How many civilians died from his attack on the party? How many good men did Rauf lose, men that had served him faithfully? Hell, how many of those Korean soldiers he’d recruited had families, wives and children who would never see their fathers again? So much blood stained this man’s hands.

But he’d promised Maria he wouldn’t kill Robert unless there was no other choice.

Right now, he had a choice.

Getting up, Altair looked down at his nemesis with an emotionless expression. “No. You will be turned over to the authorities and made to stand trial for your crimes.”

Coming up behind him, Malik and Maria gave him questioning looks.

“Are you certain of this, brother?” Malik asked bitterly, hand gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. “After everything he’s done? Kadar’s dead because of him! So are Clay and Adha!”

Turning to his partner, golden eyes widened in disbelief. “Adha’s dead?” He felt his heart clench, and rage touch his vision. He may have severed ties with her, but to find that his first love had been killed…

“Yes,” he replied, a tinge of remorse creeping into his voice. “She gave her life to save Claudia’s. Even that woman deserves justice for her murder. Will you deny her that?”

“Altair,” Maria said, voice hard as she took a resolute step forward, “if you feel killing him here and now is the right thing to do, I’ll stand by you. Hell, after tonight, I’m tempted to finish the job myself.”

He looked at her, shocked. “You were the one who told me not to kill for vengeance, but instead for the good of the world. I promised you he’d see justice.”

“This is justice!” she shouted, clutching her own sword so tightly her knuckles turned white. “No court could possibly give him a sentence equal to his crimes. You were right, Altair; he deserves to die.”

“We’ve seen corruption in the justice system, Altair,” Malik spat. “Even if we did find a judge and jury he couldn’t pay off, his friends in Korea might still break him out of jail. Finish him now, and rid the world of this filth.”

Looking at them both, Altair shook his head. A week ago, he wouldn’t have even hesitated. So many people he loved had suffered thanks to the Frenchman. Yet his promise to Maria, even if she didn’t seem to care about it anymore, echoed in his mind. In fact, seeing her so overwhelmed with hatred, this new willingness to murder her former boss in cold blood, was like a bucket of ice water to the fiery hatred that had burned within him.

Despite being at the heart of Templar Industries’ corruption, Maria had kept her moral center, even as Robert manipulated her. She’d even stayed true to her beliefs when presented proof, determined to bring about her former boss’ end through legal and bloodless means unless absolutely necessary. Even when finding out that her new lover was a killer, she’d merely pleaded with him to kill for the right reasons.

Her sudden desire for revenge, having seen first-hand the pain one man could cause, made Altair realize how much stronger than him she had been. That strength, which now wavered, was not something he was willing to let her abandon for the false power vengeance would give her.

Altair loved Maria far too much to let her stain her soul like his.

Resolve hardening, his golden eyes glanced at his helpless, bleeding opponent before returning to his companions. “No. If I kill him now, I’ll have proven that he and I are exactly alike. I will not allow myself to give him the satisfaction.”

For Robert de Sable, Altair had become a monster, willing to justify his bloody quest for vengeance as making the hard choices no one else could.

For Maria Thorpe, he would become a man, making the harder choice to trust others to see justice done.

“So you let him live instead?” Malik snarled, barely containing his own fury as he stalked over to them. Dark eyes full of hate, it was only Altair’s strong hand on his chest that stayed his blade. “If you won’t do it, let me instead. It’s my right!”

“No, Malik. You may have more right to hate him than most, but what will it accomplish? Killing him won’t bring Kadar back.”

Visibly deflating, Malik found he couldn’t even look at Altair. “I know this. But all the pain—”

“Will not go away with his death. We learned this with Al Mualim. The years of suffering he caused us only healed because we took it upon ourselves to remove his toxic influence.” Giving his arm a reassuring squeeze, Altair continued, “Let him live so the world can watch as Robert de Sable is stripped of everything; his power, his company, and his dignity. I know we’ve played fast and loose with the law, Malik, but it is not up to us to play judge, jury, and executioner.” He turned to his lover, giving her a small smile. “And Maria, you’re the one who’s right; revenge isn’t the answer. Sometimes killing is a necessity, but our reasons for doing so are what keeps us from becoming the monsters we fight. And you deserve a man to love you, not a monster.”

At the emphatic passion in his voice, she found her own rage cool. Giving him a tiny, proud smile, she said, “How do I keep ending up as the angel on men’s shoulders?”

“Because you’re not afraid to use whatever it takes to keep us in check.”

Chuckling, Maria moved to embrace him, but something caught her attention. “Altair, look out!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Altair saw Robert lurch to his feet, his throwing knife in hand, ready to strike. Before he could defend himself, however, Malik lunged forward, driving his sword through the Frenchman’s heart, right where Altair had ripped the armor earlier.

The blow stopped Robert in his tracks. After a moment, his body seemed to register that it had been stabbed, giving a horrific shudder as he collapsed to his knees. He’d already been losing blood from the bullet wound, organs slowly shutting down, but as he looked into his killer’s eyes, the pain and hatred he expected to see in their dark depths was absent. Instead, there was a calm focus, determined yet impersonal. It was as if Robert were little more than some wild beast that needed to be put down, not the man who had been responsible for the loss of his arm or the death of his brother.

The strike was one only Malik al-Sayf could have made, but it was done out of instinct, no malice.

It stung his pride, and Robert turned his attention to Maria and Altair, desperately searching for acknowledgment, the satisfaction that he had left some sort of irrefutable mark on them. Maria had been so close to the edge, to finally being knocked off her moral high-horse. Instead, she and her lover merely held each other, drawing strength from the other’s presence. And where should be fury, disgust, unforgiving hatred, he was disappointed to find them watching him with pity, as if they had any right to do so.

It was infuriating.

“You think it’s over?” he croaked, forcing air from his lungs as his body slowly lost feeling. He would not die with those looks on their faces. He was the stuff of their nightmares, the man whom they had plotted and schemed against for almost a decade, who had made them bleed and suffer and lie awake at night, filling their heads with doubts and anger. He would not go peacefully into the night. “Others will follow my example. My legacy will live on.”

But Altair merely shook his head, expression unwavering. “Your schemes, like you, have been put to rest.”

“Garnier will—”

“We will take care of the doctor,” Malik finished, yanking the sword from the Frenchman’s chest. The blood flowed more freely, and he could see Robert knew his death was imminent. “None may live who know the secrets of Project Eden. What started with you and our mentor, will die with you as well. Within a decade, none shall even remember you or your work.”

Eyes becoming glassy, he made one last desperate taunt. “You will remember me. Maria will certainly never forget me.”

“You’re right,” she replied, eyes again darkening with hatred. “You manipulated me, used me, and would have erased everything I am for your own sick pleasure.” However, a smirk soon came to her lips. “But you’re also the reason I met Altair, found people who truly care about me. Because of that, in time, the pain of what you’ve done will fade, and you’ll be nothing but a distant memory. A character of my past who has been removed from the narrative, replaced by a man so much better than you.” There was a touch of malicious pride in her voice, knowing her words cut him deeper than even the sword that had pierced his chest. She wouldn’t kill him for vengeance, but she could send him to Hell with the knowledge that he’d failed to break her.

Much as her words tore at his pride, Robert gave one last dark smile. Satisfied that his former pawn was at least no longer looking at him with pity, he closed his eyes, drawing his last breath as he collapsed to the ground with a heavy _thump_.

Nudging the body with the toe of his boot, Malik turned back to his companions. “Given how long he’d been bleeding out, I’m surprised it took him that long to die.”

Altair gave his brother a dismayed frown, full of sorrow and disappointment. “Malik…”

He held up his hand dismissively. “Spare me. He would have killed you had I not intervened.”

“Killing in the name of vengeance won’t heal your heart, Malik,” Altair said sadly.

“I know.” A tiny smile touched his lips. “But killing to protect the brother I have left? I think that might.”

Golden eyes widened in surprise. “Malik—”

The one-armed COO shook ignored him, instead focusing on Maria. “We should get you home. Even if your wound isn’t deep, if sand gets into it, it could turn septic. We need to sanitize and bandage it properly.”

After a moment of consideration, Maria strode over to him. Malik tensed, wondering if she might strike him for killing her former boss. To his surprise, instead she merely kissed his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered, “for saving the man I love. I think Kadar would be proud.”

Despite himself, a tiny blush rose to his cheeks. “You’re welcome,” he murmured.

“And here I thought Miss Thorpe was Al’s woman,” Edward teased, strutting over. “Or are you giving out kisses to all your rescuers?”

Altair glared at the older man. “Edward, I swear—”

Rolling her eyes, Maria pecked Edward on the cheek as well, causing all three men’s jaws to drop. “Thank you. If you hadn’t shot Robert when you had, I’d likely be dead.”

The pirate rubbed the back of his head bashfully. “Don’t mention it. Mary’d kick my ass if I’d let Altair’s girlfriend get killed,” he mumbled.

Crossing over to his woman, Altair pulled Maria in for a long, deep kiss. Relief washed over him as he felt her tongue stroke his, reassuring him that she was there, alive in his arms, and not on some plane to North Korea to become the mindless concubine of a madman. Groaning, he molded their bodies together, nibbling on her bottom lip, coaxing a stuttering gasp from her. The sound made him chuckle, and he buried his four-fingered hand in her hair, angling her head so he could savor her mouth and tease more sounds from her.

Malik rolled his eyes. “Jealousy is not your most attractive feature, Altair.”

Pulling away from her delectable lips, he gave his brother a wolfish grin. “Luckily, my other skills make up for it.”

Maria slapped his chest, mouth twisted in annoyance, even if her eyes betrayed her arousal. “Only barely, you spoiled brat. It’s going to take more than a few kisses to keep me satisfied.”

Smirking, he brushed his lips against the shell of her ear. “Oh, I _know_ ,” he purred.

Unwilling to risk either an argument or another make-out session breaking out, Edward cleared his throat. “Des could use some medical attention. He’s dehydrated, bruised to all hell, and could use a decent meal. Connor’s taking care of the cut on his face, but we don’t need him gettin’ any infections, either.”

Maria turned towards Robert’s corpse. “What do we do with him?”

“The authorities should already be at the mansion; we can tell them what happened once everyone is safe and sound,” said Malik.

Nodding, Altair took Maria’s hand, walking over to where Desmond was being tended to by Connor, a first aid kit open between them.

“Fuck, man, I don’t need you fussing over me!” he grumbled, trying to bat away his hand.

The Native American rolled his eyes, continuing to dab his mouth with an alcohol-soaked rag. “What would you have me do? Let your wounds get infected? I doubt that will do much to impress Lucy. Aveline tells me women don’t much care for kissing men whose face is full of pus.”

That seemed to shut the former bartender up, though Altair couldn’t help but notice the faint blush across his cheeks. Apparently, the boy was finally making some real headway with the blonde. “It could be worse,” Altair assured him. “From the look of things, you’re going to end up with a scar just like mine and Ezio’s.”

Desmond frowned. “Yeah, de Sable did that on purpose. Guess he wanted to feel like he was torturing you.”

A burst of rage pulsed through him at the thought of his cousin’s mistreatment, but he repressed it, knowing there was nothing that could be done. Desmond wouldn’t appreciate him getting bent out of shape over him, anyway. The boy was still getting used to having family members in his life who seemed to care. Instead, the Arab ruffled his cousin’s short hair. “If it helps, I have it on good authority that women find lip scars irresistible.”

Malik glanced around. “Where are Rauf and Jacob?”

“Checking to make sure we don’t have any more soldiers lying in wait for an ambush,” Connor replied, hauling Desmond into his arms like a child, much to the other man’s chagrin. Not that he could do much about it even if he weren’t injured; Connor was built like a bear, with arms comparable to tree trunks, and Desmond wasn’t dumb enough to try getting out of his hold.

Still, that wouldn’t stop him from objecting. “Man, I can walk.”

Edward poked his side, shaking his head when the younger man winced. “You’re beat up and bloody, lad. If I had to guess, you’ve got bruised ribs at best, and internal bleeding at worse. No need straining yourself any more than necessary.”

“What’s the big deal?” Jacob broke in with a chuckle. “Internal bleeding’s fine. That’s where the blood’s supposed to be, right?”

Malik groaned, unsure if the Brit was joking or actually serious. Given his profession and general bone-headedness, neither would really surprise him.

“All clear, Rauf?” Altair asked.

The former soldier nodded. “We checked the other planes, and it looks like everyone that came over has been eliminated.” He gave Maria a proud smile. “You handled yourself quite well out there. With some proper combat training, you’ll be able to rescue yourself next time.”

“Next time?” Altair replied, pulling her close. “There won’t be a next time. I’m never letting her out of my sight.”

The Englishwoman rolled her eyes and batted his hand away. “I’d appreciate the training, especially if it will allow me to escape this clingy oaf.”

“It would be my pleasure,” Rauf responded with a wink.

Loading Desmond into the Mustang, Connor said, “Let’s return to the mansion. I’m sure Ezio is anxious to know we’re okay.”

“Aye, the others too,” said Edward, suddenly looking nervous. “I left in such a hurry I didn’t even tell Mary where I was going. Hope she doesn’t hold it against me too much.”

“Look at you, scared of your girlfriend,” Jacob teased, elbowing his ribs.

“A smart man fears, loves, and respects the women in his life,” he replied sagely. He raised an eyebrow at the younger man. “And don’t tell me you aren’t afraid of Evie.”

Jacob felt a shiver run down his spine at the memory of his twin’s wrath. “Fair point.”

As the others climbed into the cars, Maria pulled Altair aside. “Can we talk?”

“Is everything okay?” he asked, looking her over critically. Now that the adrenaline of the battle was fading, he’d noticed she was holding her wound more. Even if it wasn’t serious, he didn’t want to delay getting her properly looked over any longer than necessary.

Glancing around the airfield, she gave a wry smile. The bodies of the Korean soldiers didn’t exactly lend themselves to what she needed to say atmosphere-wise, but she refused to delay any longer. The mansion would be too hectic, and given how close she’d come to dying that night, she wasn’t looking to waste any more time. “When Robert held that gun to my head, I realized something important. Something I almost never got a chance to say.”

He nodded, heart fluttering in anticipation, but mind telling him not to get his hopes up. Yes, of course they cared deeply for each other, but she was right, it had only been a week. A woman like Maria, while having proven to be willing to jump headfirst into danger when the mood took her, was not the sort to recklessly put her heart on the line.

“You’re stubborn, irritating, and a massive pain in the arse,” she continued. “Since meeting you, I’ve been kidnapped, held hostage, stabbed, nearly shot, and had my face plastered all over the gossip column of multiple tabloids and websites.”

Before his heart could sink, she cupped his cheek and said, “You’re also clever, generous, and have given me a new lease on life. One that’s full of people who care about and respect me. And it’s dawned on me that, while I’ve implied it a couple times, I haven’t actually told you how I feel.” Brushing her plump lips against his, she whispered, “I love you, Altair.”

Altair’s heart nearly burst at her words, and he immediately pulled her in for a deeper kiss, putting as much love and passion as he could manage into it. He quietly swore to kiss her like this every day. When he pulled away, he replied, “I love you, too, Maria. Whether you choose to take a job in England, travel the world, or stay in Dubai, know that I want to be at your side, for now and always.”

Their tender moment was interrupted by Jacob calling over, “Will you two hurry it up? Desmond’s getting cranky, and we still need to find your bloody horse. Save your snogging for later!”

With a laugh, Maria took Altair’s hand. “Shall we go home?”

His smile was brighter than any of the spotlights as his thumb gently stroked her knuckles. “Yes. Let’s go home.”

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally going to write one more chapter to finish off this story, but after trying to write over and over again, I've decided that the way this ends is way better than what I've been coming up with. Maybe I'll change my mind later, but for now, I think we can officially declare the Dubai Seduction complete!
> 
> Thank you all so much for all your support and comments. I plan to write one-shots and vignettes for this universe, so don't be afraid to offer suggestions. If you have any questions, I hope I'll be able to answer them to your satisfaction. Safety, peace, and love to you all!


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